


Tabula Rasa

by balancingdiet



Series: give time the power to heal you and i [1]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Identity Reveal, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2020-12-02 00:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 42,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20946485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balancingdiet/pseuds/balancingdiet
Summary: Shinichi always finds his neighbour weird. But he didn't expect to find his neighbour lying on a patch of grass and donned in Kaitou Kid's costume, too.





	1. Chapter 1

For three years, Shinichi had lived a quiet life.

It wasn't something to boast, and neither was it a sad thing, really. It was just a quiet life where he was no longer in the body of a child, encountering murders on a unhealthy daily basis or dealing with organization filled with deadly psychopaths.

Yes, _the _quiet life.

But not normal.

After that entire Edogawa Conan mess, the only thing that returned normal was Shinichi's body. As for his life... The lies he had built up had turned into an empire, and when that empire fell, the consequences were dire, and he had a lot to pay back.

Nothing could ever be normal from that.

The moment he got his body back, Shinichi quietly left his old high-school and attended a new one. He then quietly graduated and worked his way into the police force without the need for a degree. He quietly solved his cases with little media attention, and quietly became an Inspector within a year in the job...

Even though Ran left home the moment she got accepted into a college located at the other end of Japan, Shinichi didn't wish his name to ever appear in her sight. As for her father, who remained in Tokyo, he still wasn't handling well after realising the only thing he thought he was good at—being the Sleeping Kogoro—was all just a pack of lies. The last cruel thing Shinichi could do was to claim any sort of limelight again, so he decided to leave their lives, stay low, and lead a quiet life for the next three years after graduation...

Actually, screw that quiet part.

Shinichi hadn't been living any close to quiet since the new neighbour moved in next door two months ago.

Kuroba Kaito.

Literally, there wasn't anything quiet about that guy; often blasting loud music; not keeping his ill-mannered doves in check; different women and men occasionally coming in and out of his house… Shinichi's annoyance was one level above his roof every time he remembered Kuroba's existence, but the one that takes the cake was his weird demeanour.

Kuroba had his ways with charming their neighbours, like the single mother living opposite their street and the old lady who baked cookies every Sunday. And that was the thing; as Edogawa Conan, Shinichi charmed his way through unsuspecting policemen and even the murderers, dropping their guards as Shinichi manipulated them to get what he wanted. Maybe it was because they thought he was literally a child, but his acting played a big part too.

Basically, Shinichi saw the Edogawa Conan in Kuroba.

(It takes one to know one.)

And he wondered why.

* * *

Tonight was just like most other nights; Shinichi had _finally _returned home, tired and not really looking forward to reading two stacks of notes on the latest serial killer on the loose. After downing a cup of black coffee, he went to the kitchen to wash the mug and causally glanced up at the window that faced Kuroba's back garden.

He frowned.

Placing the mug on the rack, Shinichi trudged past the kitchen counter, his eyes remained staring through the window glass.

He swore he just saw a glimpse of white flying by.

Shinichi didn't believe in ghost. So if he had eliminated the impossible, the only thing he could come up to explain that white thing was a big blanket or a cloth happening to blow past...

Aha, he was right. Shinichi smirked as he saw the white cloth caught itself onto Kuroba's fence and flapping wildly when a wind passed—

Wait.

Or maybe he wasn't entirely right.

Noticing something was wrong, Shinichi frowned as he jogged towards the door to his backyard. Skipping past his few pitiful attempts of trying to grow some potted plants, he peered over his fence to get a better look at the cloth.

It wasn't white. Not entirely.

It was red too, and he recognised that red, even if it was in the middle of the night.

Shinichi glanced towards Kuroba's house. The cloth couldn't have come from the second floor, but the first floor of Kuroba's house was dark. In fact, it was too dark for Shinichi's taste.

A twist of his gut sent him climbing over the fence without hesitation. After jumping over to Kuroba's side, Shinichi went to check on the cloth, and for the first time he hoped he was wrong.

But he was hardly wrong—The good portion of the cloth was indeed tainted by blood. Shinichi highly doubted the blood was caused by a paper cut… but he decided not to _think_ anymore, because the more he did, the more he fear he would be right.

Clutching onto the cloth, he turned and decided to find the source—

Originally from Shinichi's house, he couldn't see anything, but now from the angle of Kuroba's backyard, Shinichi instantly found him lying right behind the rows of his thick, rose plantations.

And he also found out the cloth in his hand wasn't any kind of cloth.

It was Kaitou Kid's cape.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG, BIG!!! SHoutout to BakaThief who created a doujin for a part of this chapter!! The fantastic art could be found below, but please do give them some big love too on tumblr!
> 
> https://bakathief.tumblr.com/post/188875883218/tabula-rasa-by-balancingdiet

Apparently Kaitou Kid wasn't dead, yet.

He was lying face down, but when Shinichi rushed over and squatted next to his body to check his pulse, he could hear Kid's raspy but steady breathing. His hat and monocle were still miraculously on, but at this close distance, it wasn't hard for Shinichi to catch a glimpse at his face and see traces of Kuroba in them; like his defined jawlines and the shape of his ears.

Despite that, what surprised Shinichi was actually his lack of surprise.

Realising it wasn't the time to gawk anymore, Shinichi checked for the source of blood. It came from the right side of Kid's waist, and Shinichi was also thankful to find the knife still stuck in his body; thankful because he didn't have the guess what caused the wound, and the knife was there to stop more blood loss (though Shinichi wondered how Kid was even capable of flying in the first place).

Now, Shinichi had another three more seconds to decide what to do: Call the ambulance _and_ police or take care of Kid himself. He contemplated the pros and cons for the latter.

Pros:

1) Shinichi wouldn't get the unwanted media attention for capturing Kid. (Even if it wasn't his credit.)

2) It would be interesting to see how Kid would react to this mess.

3) Shinichi was (a little) interested to know why he disappeared for two years in between before resurfacing again 6 months ago.

4) And what was with all those diamond-stealing?

5) and many more other questions.

Cons:

1) His blood might ruin his kitchen floor.

Tossing the cape away, Shinichi already had his answer.

* * *

Till this day, the two weeks trip to Hawaii never failed to help Shinichi through his remaining years of life. It took Shinichi about an hour to patch and stitch Kid up before he put him on his couch in the living room to rest, leaving to spend the next three hours cleaning his literally bloodied kitchen.

By the time he was finished, it was already morning; the sun was in the sky, his kitchen was finally clean, and Kaitou Kid was up.

Or rather Kuroba Kaito was up, standing in the entrance of his kitchen and caressing the bandage under the shirt Shinichi had changed him out. And that was the only thing Shinichi changed him out from, besides the obvious of removing his hat and monocle. His white pants remained.

Kuroba seemed glad at the fact, too.

"So," Kuroba mumbled, clearing his throat as he awkwardly glanced at the mop and the pile of red-stained rugs in the bin. "I guess… you had a rough night, huh?"

Shinichi narrowed his eyes. "I would prefer a thank you."

"Thank you," Kuroba said as he backtracked his way to the front door. "Then... I'll see myself out now, and you don't have to send me off. Good day and goodby—"

"Before you go, you might want to check your mailbox five minutes later." Shinichi picked a mug from the rack to prepare his first coffee of the day. His back was facing Kuroba, but he could tell his eyes were on him. He continued, "I have some interesting photos you'll like to see."

Kuroba chuckled. "Or you can give them to me now?"

"I'd like to make my coffee first."

"Then I can stand here and wait." Kuroba walked back and leaned his front against the kitchen counter. "I don't want to trouble you with going to my mail box and– um, uh, give me some, uh, photos."

Those pauses were too suspicious for Shinichi to ignore, so he glanced over his shoulder to check. And just like he guessed, Kuroba had spotted his suit, along with his hat and monocle that were sitting inside a bag next to the fridge.

It was a little disappointing that Kuroba—Kaitou Kid—didn't notice the bag sooner, but Shinichi decided to give him the benefit of the doubt since Kuroba literally just woken up from being stabbed after all. Stirring his coffee, Shinichi walked towards the bag. He took a slow, deliberate sip, placed the mug on the counter, and picked the bag up.

"Spoiler alert," Shinichi muttered as he lifted the suit and briefly waved it in the air. "The suit appeared in the photos. Same for the hat and monocle."

"What do you even mean?" Kuroba tilted his head innocently.

Shinichi sighed. "You're Kaito—"

"Ohhh, are we on the first name basis already? Okay, Shinichi."

"What? No—"

"And those _things_?" Kuroba waved over at the bag. "Those things are for my cosplay."

"Cosplay," Shinichi echoed.

"Yes, cosplay. Though I would appreciate if you can return them to me. It isn't cheap, you know, to buy the materials to make them."

Knowing Kuroba would resort to such lame excuses, Shinichi started digging his hand into the inner suits pockets, and the more his hand dug, the more he could see behind the crack of Kuroba's facade.

It seemed five seconds was Kuroba's limit. "What are you doing?" he spat.

"Checking out the cool pockets that you've sewn for your cosplay costume," Shinichi drawled, and on the cue, he whipped out something he'd seen Kuroba—Kaitou Kid—often used; the infamous card gun. It weighed a lot lighter than it looked. Tweaking for a bit, he pointed at his basket of fruits beside Kuroba and shot. A card sliced through the air, and one of the card corners stuck on the apple.

There, plain in sight was the signature Kaitou Kid logo on the card.

They stared at it for a few moments before looking at each other in sync. Shinichi raised an eyebrow at Kuroba.

"Aren't I amazing?" Kuroba started laughing, but he stopped and pressed a hand on his bandage. He compromised and showed a meek grin instead. "The gun looks and works just like the real thing."

"Like the real thing," Shinichi echoed again. He placed the card gun on the counter and started digging again; and not-so-coincidentally, the drumming of Kuroba's finger against his counter grew faster and faster…

Inside the pockets, Shinichi could recognise a few other things based on his touch; one felt like a lighter, a handful of paperclips, and there were a couple of balls with buttons and—

Shinichi frowned, fishing out the hard object he wasn't pleased to find.

It was a gemstone.

Shinichi raised it up against the kitchen window, the red gem twinkled under the rays of morning light. For the sake of the gemstone's owner, he probably shouldn't touch it with his bare hand, but if that would rile Kuroba just a bit, he was more than glad to juggle it with his toes too. "It looks like the real thing," Shinichi drawled.

The stupid, though clearly nervous smile was still plastered on Kuroba's face. "Aha, yes. _Looks_ like."

"A prop for your cosplay too?"

"Yeap."

"I see..."

In the midst of his fiddling, the gem accidentally slipped out of Shinichi's fingers, but it seemed fast reflex wasn't something a two week trip to Hawaii could teach—

Kuroba was already by his side the next moment he blinked, and when he blinked another time, he witnessed the gem falling on Kuroba's palm, safe and sound.

"That's a low move," Kuroba muttered as he slowly straightened, his hand clutching onto the gem.

"It wasn't on purpose," Shinichi said. And that was the real truth.

Kuroba looked like he wanted to rebuke, but his face cringed before a word could get out and his back was bent again. "Ow."

Shinichi frowned, grasping Kuroba's elbow. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Kuroba heaved. "But I think I need to… sit down."

Shinichi helped without a question, and they slowly ambled to the living room until Kuroba sat on the couch himself. He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw as the muscles in his cheeks flickered. Sweat was starting to appear on his forehead too.

"I think you should go to the hospital," Shinichi suggested after a while. He was sure he patched Kid as well as he could, but with all that moving, he wasn't sure if it would be good now.

"No. And I'm fine," Kuroba mumbled.

"If you die here, I'll be charged for murder."

"Nah. I'm sure you'll free yourself from it, _Tantei-kun_."

Shinichi scoffed and crossed his arms. "Is that your way to admit you're Kaitou Kid?"

"Yes," Kuroba said, his eyes still closed. "If that will make you shut up and let me sit here for another ten minutes in silence too."


	3. Chapter 3

Shinichi was used to having his life going off track, but that didn’t mean he was going to allow Kuroba to derail it any further. Not two seconds after Kuroba’s complain, Shinichi grabbed his arm and dragged him to his car that was parked outside.

“Where are we going?” Kuroba muttered groggily after Shinichi buckled him on the passenger seat.

“To the hospital.”

“I already said—”

“I don’t care,” Shinichi snapped. And just when he thought having to deal with an injured, grouchy thief was bad enough, he realised Kuroba had taken the gemstone out of the house too. It would waste too much time to put it back inside, so after peeling it away from Kuroba’s weakened grasp, he placed it inside the glove box.

Shinichi started his car and drove.

As he made his way to the hospital, Shinichi put on his bluetooth earpiece and dialled.

_“Hello Kudo-kun?”_ Inspector Megure answered.

“Morning Inspector. Do you have a minute to access the computer?”

_“What is it?”_

“Can you check if any department from the Tokyo prefecture has sent out an issue to the hospitals, asking them to declare all of their stabbing-related cases today?”

There was some ruffling sound, and a few keyboards tapping after. _“There is no such issue. Why? Should I make one?”_

“No, you don’t have to,” Shinichi said, glancing at Kuroba. “I’m just asking.”

_“Is it related to the serial killer case?”_

Shinichi closed his eyes for a brief moment and swallowed the sigh. “Yeah. Something like that.”

He couldn’t damn well believe he just lied for Kuroba—Kaitou Kid.

After some bit of exchange, Shinchi hung up. He checked Kuroba again. His face had returned some colour, but the plan to the hospital still wasn’t changing.

Shinichi sped ahead.

* * *

After Kuroba was wheeled behind the hospital drapes, Shinichi finally found the time to check the news (his bloodied kitchen was his number one priority after fixing Kid). Shinichi hadn’t been onto Kaitou Kid's news as of late, and it didn't help when the media didn’t publicise much about the latest heist either. All Shinichi could gather was the gemstone owner was very rich, but very private about his life too. He might have pulled some strings with the media to avoid attracting unwanted attention—like Kid’s fans—to his museum.

So, besides the picture of the stolen gem and a blurry white glider against the dark sky, there was nothing else reported after the heist. Nothing else that could explain why Kid got a knife stabbed in his right body.

Shinichi closed his browser tabs.

A short while later, they wheeled Kuroba out and into a temporary ward. Shinichi followed as the doctor explained on the way.

“The wound was already well-taken care of and we only did some extra cleaning," the doctor said. "All he needs is some rest. He can even be discharged later afternoon.”

“Thank you.” Shinichi bowed as the doctor and nurse left the ward after settling Kuroba in the room. Once the door closed, he turned, staring at Kuroba who was sleeping on the bed.

Or pretending to.

Shinchi picked up the chartboard holder hanging at the end of Kuroba’s bed. He scoffed. “So your real name is really Kuroba Kaito?”

At that, Kuroba peeled open his eyes. “No.”

“Alright,_ Kuroba._” Shinichi placed the chartboard back. He pulled a visitor stool and sat next to the bed. “I have some questions—”

“Didn’t you hear the doctor?” Kuroba placed an arm over his eyes. “I need to rest.”

“Rest, yes. But you are still fit to talk… _and_ see.” Shinichi paused as he made a show of patting his pockets to find his phone. “Maybe looking at some photos might rejuvenate you?”

Taking his arm away, Kuroba scowled. “I thought your Black Organization or whatever was already taken down? I have nothing more to help or give you.”

“I said I have some questions; I’m not here to negotiate anything.”

“Uh, then what’s with those threats, _huh_?” Kuroba snarled.

“To get your arm away so we can speak like adults.”

A beat of second passed as Kuroba slumped his head on the pillow with a sigh. “Are detectives unable to live for a day without asking questions?”

“As a police inspector—”

“Oh, _inspector_. Odd flex but ok.”

“—I have reasons to ask why and how you got stabbed.”

Kuroba chuckled. “If you are really so _righteous_, you would have sent me straight to the police last night.”

“I would,” Shinichi admitted quietly and pricked the skin under his thumb nail. “But the media attention was what that held me back the most.”

Kuroba rolled his eyes. “Media attention on me?”

“No. On me.”

One second Kuroba’s eyes looked calculative, and the next after he blinked, they became clear and a little amused. “Then why did you send me in _now_?” he asked.

“You’re here as Kuroba Kaito, not Kaitou Kid.” Shinichi gestured weakly at Kuroba’s body. “Without that suit and monocle, no one can tell.”

“How sad, no one cares about Kaitou Kid’s white pants.” Kuroba shook his head in a mourning manner as he patted his legs. “Maybe I should make it pink instead?”

“You’re supposed to answer my question, not ask yourself more questions.” Shinichi crossed his arms. “Who stabbed you?”

Kuroba turned his head and looked at the wall. “I don’t have to tell you.”

“If you don’t—"

“Are you going to threaten me about the photos _again_?” Kuroba yawned out loud. “It’s getting a little old.”

“If you don’t,” Shinichi repeated, eyes narrowing. “You won’t have the gemstone back.”

Shinichi always thought nothing could ever beat the satisfying feeling of witnessing the Black Organization’s downfall, but seeing Kuroba froze as his eyes widened like two golf balls, he realised this moment was a very close second.

Kuroba flung up and sat upright on his bed. His face contorted from shock, to pain and then to frustration. “You said this isn’t a negotiation,” he muttered, tone eerily levelled.

Shinichi managed a shrug and leaned against his chair. “That’s provided if you answer my questions.”

“Have you heard of this saying: Ignorance is bliss?” Kuroba scowled, pressing a hand on his side. “There is no incentive for you to know. Heck. Didn’t you want yourself out of the media’s attention?”

“Getting myself out of media’s attention and making sure one pays for their attempted murder are two different things.”

Kuroba scoffed. “What about the in between? The fact that you saved an international, wanted thief?”

“That’s not an in between; that’s my principle,” Shinichi said, his eyes flickered to the wall behind Kuroba. “You don’t need a logical mind to save someone, do you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! reviews are love


	4. Chapter 4

Considering the seconds of silence that passed, Shinichi would treat it as a win for getting the last word in. But given Kuroba's reply after he laid back on the bed, Shinichi still wasn't pleased:

"Whoever stabbed me is none of your business."

"Fine." Shinichi stood up from his chair. "Say goodbye to that gemstone."

"Then I'll steal it back," Kuroba hissed, his white teeth showing. "The owner has the crappiest security system in history anyway."

"Crappy security, yet you still got stabbed," Shinichi drawled, though it wasn't enough to provoke Kuroba to rebuke or explain himself. Shinichi continued, "And who says I'm returning it?"

That seemed to catch Kuroba off guard. He rubbed a hand down his face, erasing his surprised look to replace it with an amused one. "How disappointing; never knew you'll succumb to corruption in the end. Should I report you?"

"Plot whatever story you want." Shinichi smirked, watching as Kuroba's frown grew deeper than he'd ever seen. "The gem has both of our fingerprints, don't forget that."

"I thought Edogawa Conan was scary enough. Who knew Kudo Shinichi is even scarier?"

"To get the answers I want, I'll do what I have to do."

"Don't underestimate me, _Tantei-kun_," Kuroba showed a smile, his blue eyes gleamed with a shade Shinichi almost couldn't recognise. "I can do what I have to do, to get what I want too."

"Touché," Shinichi muttered before turning his back and left for the door.

Striding out of the hospital and into his car, Shinichi took out the gemstone from the glove box. Honestly, he hadn't planned to use any threats, much less holding over a million-dollar jewel as ransom just to get Kuroba to talk. But it wasn't entirely his fault when Kuroba was the one who refused to cooperate, turning what could have been a normal conversation into a whirling sandstorm.

(It often bothered Shinichi whenever his curiosity wasn't satisfied, but what bothered him more was the fine line between curiosity and concern for his pesky neighbour.)

Remembering he had left a black jacket behind in the car last night, Shinichi looked over his backseat. The only safest place he trust to keep the gemstone was on himself, so he put the jacket on and kept the gemstone inside the inner pocket.

"That should do," Shinichi said to no one.

With that, he started his car and drove away; he still had a serial killer on the loose.

* * *

Shinichi finally found the evidences.

He dialled Inspector Megure when he was on the way down in the hotel lift, asking him to prepare the arrest warrant. Like always, the Inspector told him he'd done a great job after hearing his deduction, but for once those compliments left a sour taste in Shinichi's mouth, especially when he knew he would have found them more than five hours ago if he hadn't busied himself with Kaitou Kid, his bloodied kitchen, and the whole annoyance at the hospital.

At the thought of Kuroba for the sixth time that afternoon, Shinichi felt his pocket. The gemstone was still there.

Just in case.

After Shinichi went into his car that was parked at the opposite street of the hotel, he pulled his seatbelt across his chest—

"It's so obvious that the serial killer works here."

Shinichi froze, the buckle strap snapped back to position. He spun around the next second, hand almost reaching out for the gun in his back pocket when he stared wide-eye at the intruder sitting at his back seat, impassively flipping through the case file Shinichi had taken from home.

"You—" Shinichi clicked his tongue and snatched the file from Kuroba's lap. "These are confidential. You can be charged for even touching them."

Kuroba rolled his eyes. He then looked at the hotel Shinichi just came out from. "Judging that you're in a hurry, I guess you found the killer?"

"No comment." Shinichi dumped the file over the dashboard. "And get out of my car."

"No, unless you give me my gemstone." Kuroba put out his hand. When Shinichi returned a blank look, Kuroba leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms with an air of defiance.

Shinichi glanced at his stomach. "If your wound reopens, it's your fault. I'm not sending you to the hospital anymore."

"For the record, you're the one who sent me there even when I didn't want to go in the first place."

"Fine. Now get out."

"Gemstone. Or no."

Heaving a sigh, Shinichi turned back and began pulling his seatbelt again. "Suit yourself."

"Why are you leaving?" Kuroba stared at Shinichi from the reflection of the rear view mirror. "Your police mates are getting the arrest warrant, no? Shouldn't you stay here till they come?"

For a brief moment Shinichi thought Kuroba had bugged his phone, but then he realised he probably had infiltrated the police more than enough times to know how the procedures worked there. "No comment."

Kuroba looked at him curiously. "Is it because you want to avoid the possible media attention during arrest?" He then glanced at the hotel. "The murderer is someone influential? Someone like… the chairman?"

"No comment." Shinichi began driving.

After that last question, Kuroba didn't speak anymore, but it only made his presence much louder than before. Shinichi had to refrain every nerve in his body from looking into the rear view mirror to see what Kuroba was up to, but at least from his side long glances, he could tell Kuroba was looking out of the car window.

Maybe it was for the better; the last thing Shinichi wanted on his mind before the interrogation later was anything related to Kuroba.

But that moment didn't last long.

After Shinichi parked outside the headquarters, Kuroba followed closely behind—from the moment Shinichi stepped out of his car till the moment he was about to tap his card to get through the security gantry.

"You're not allowed to enter, so leave." Shinichi turned and pointed Kuroba towards the headquarters' entrance, like a teacher asking a student to get out of the class, which was beyond childish, to say the least. And the only thing more annoying for Shinichi than this was being the one who broke the silence.

"Why?" Kuroba tilted his head.

"For obvious reasons like, security?" Shinichi deadpanned and waved his identity card.

Kuroba smiled as he glanced around the building. "And do you think that's going to stop me? This place actually feels like second home."

Shinichi scoffed. "You might want to re-consider that statement, just in case you jinx it."

"I already said I'm not leaving you— Wow, actually that sounds a little gay, don't you think?" Kuroba chuckled.

Shinichi closed his eyes briefly and imagined not hearing the sentence, ever. "Do whatever you want, but you're still not getting the gemstone." With that, he turned, tapping his pass and made his way towards the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reviews are loved!


	5. Chapter 5

Shinichi had been so focused that he didn't realize the door opened until he heard it closed. He glanced over, watching as Detective Takagi approached him.

“How is it?” Takagi asked, staring at the suspect sitting in the interrogation room behind the one-way mirror.

Shinichi swallowed a sigh. Things weren’t good, and the interrogation was going nowhere. He had switched himself out and let Inspector Shiratori take over at the moment. Despite all the evidences already laid out in front of him, the suspect was still a tough nut to crack.

“The suspect isn’t saying anything," Shinichi explained.

“I see,” Takagi said, glancing at his watch. Out of nowhere, he started fanning himself. “Did they switch off the AC?”

Shinichi frowned. Now that Takagi mentioned, he did feel a little hot… He uncrossed his arms, considering to take off his jacket, but stopped mid-way as he crossed his arms again. 

“I don’t have the time to play games at the moment,” Shinichi muttered.

Takagi tilted his head. “What do you mean, Kudo-kun?”

“Detective Takagi doesn’t wear his wedding band during work.”

Silence fell, until Takagi laughed—with a pitch that Shinichi found all too familiar. 

“Really?" Kuroba said as he fiddled with the wedding band. "But he was wearing it when I knocked him out."

“I lied,” Shinichi drawled and turned to the one-way mirror again. “It’s to bust you out, but I didn’t expect you’ll admit it so quickly.”

“I’d figured you have enough things on your plate at the moment.” Kuroba stuffed his hands inside his pockets and gestured his head towards the suspect sitting in the interrogation room, alongside with his lawyer, Inspector Shiratori and Inspector Megure. “Who’s he?”

“Do I really have to drag you out?”

Kuroba ignored him and pressed his face close to the mirror, eyes squinting at what Shinichi guessed was the name tag on the suspect’s hotel uniform. “Adachi Sakamoto...” Kuroba widened his eyes and looked back at Shinichi. “Adachi? He’s not the chairman of the hotel, but he’s related to the chairman?”

Shinichi really shouldn’t have said anything, but the word simply slipped: “Yes.” 

“Interesting.” Kuroba peered through the glass again. “Given his authority, he must have the master key to gain access into those victims’ room to see their holiday plans on their computer… That’s how he knew where the victims were going, killing them when they were alone...”

Shinichi narrowed his eyes. “How much have you read from the file?” 

“Till the part where the first victim made a complaint that her make-up kit was stolen from her room.”

“That’s already two-third deep into the case file.”

“Speed-read is my forte.” Kuroba smirked, which was weird for Shinichi when it didn’t quite fit Takagi’s features. “So what’s the thing you got from the hotel that made you think he’s the killer?” Kuroba asked.

Shinichi pursed his lips. He’d broken more rules today than he ever did since he worked here three years ago, and it puzzled him just how much he was growing less concerned about it. Maybe it was because Kuroba was wearing Takagi’s face, or maybe it was just Kuroba that he was getting used to—

No. Not ever. 

Shinichi watched as Inspector Shiratori slammed the table in the interrogation room, but the suspect didn’t even flinch.

Maybe he just had too much on his plate to care, like what Kuroba said.

“Adachi Sakamoto made a stupid slip-up,” Shinichi began to explain, “he managed to delete all the footages outside those victims’ room, but he’d forgotten to delete the one when he accessed into the security room to erase those footages.”

“What’s his excuse?”

“He said he went in there to take a nap.”

Kuroba scoffed.

They stood in their spots in silence, looking in vain as Inspector Shiratori and Inspector Megure dealt with the suspect, but nothing seemed to be able to rile him up enough to confess—

From Shinichi’s sidelong glance, Kuroba suddenly straightened.

“What is it?” Shinichi asked tentatively.

Stroking his chin, Kuroba glanced over his shoulder, his face split into a stupid grin. “In exchange for my information, I want the gemstone.”

Shinichi wished he was surprised at Kuroba’s demand, but he wasn’t, which made it all the more annoying; to think that he understood Kuroba well enough to see it coming. He looked at Kuroba warily. “How valid is your so-called information?”

“Very valid, which also explains why no one suspicious, much less anyone that looked like Adachi Sakamoto, was found following those victims in any of the security cameras around the crime scenes."

Shinichi closed his eyes and rubbed a thumb between his brows. “You’ve read the _entire _case file, didn’t you?”

Kuroba grinned and put out a hand. “Gemstone, or nah?”

“For the sake of those three victims, shouldn’t you share the information without any compromises?”

“For the sake of the three victims, shouldn’t you compromise and give me the gemstone, in exchange for the information?”

“…”

“…”

The clock ticked behind them as they began their staring battle. The lack of AC was not helping with the growing tension, but Kuroba showed no sign of retracting back his hand, and Shinichi, too, refused to move the arm that was pressing against the jewel in his jacket's pocket 

Another slam came from the interrogation room, and this time it came from Inspector Megure—

Kuroba suddenly turned, catching Shinichi off guard momentarily. Close to the mirror, Kuroba pointed at Adachi Sakamoto. “Look at his fingers.”

Unsure of what to say towards the change in Kuroba’s heart, Shinichi followed his instruction instead. It took him a while, but now that he realised, he figured it was natural for Kuroba to notice it faster than him too, given his disguise expertise; it wasn’t just his fingers Shinichi should look at—there was a slight, glossy tint on all of his clean and trim nails.

Adachi Sakamoto had painted his nails with clear-gel nail polish. 

Those four words was all it took to unlock all the locks Shinichi couldn’t break before.

Shinichi brushed past Kuroba as he stalked off towards the door, but he turned around right at the last moment, catching Kuroba’s stare.

“We’ll talk when I get back home,” Shinichi said, before gesturing a hand over Kuroba’s disguise. “And you might want to change out. Similarly to Hattori’s case, I’m sure Detective Takagi’s wife wouldn’t be pleased to know you disguised as her husband.”

Kuroba chuckled. “Is she going to throw me to the ground?”

“No, but she has a gun.”

With that, Shinichi dashed towards the interrogation room.

* * *

After Shinichi went into the interrogation room with the new information, Adachi Sakamoto broke down half an hour later. (He even took out his shoes and threw it at Shinichi in anger, revealing his red-painted toenails.) Adachi had been struggling with his gender identity for a long time and occasionally, he would resort to stealing visitors' make-up to let out steam. But soon after those desires and turmoils escalated into something darker, and so he disguised as a woman, followed three victims for the past one month and killed all of them.

Once the confession was made and the culprit was taken away, Shinichi let the rest deal with the press conference that would be held during the evening news slot. Although Shinichi’s colleagues had gotten over the shock of the entire Edogawa Conan’s mess, his reason to shy away from the media wasn’t known to most people, except for Inspector Megure. As a former colleague of Ran’s father, he understood Shinichi’s decision to keep a low-profile, and he agreed with his doing, which Shinichi was thankful for.

(Because unlike Inspector Megure, his mother, Professor Agase… they all wished he and Ran could get back together again.)

In the midst of the press conference preparation, Takagi suddenly trudged out from the toilet, his clothes a little wrinkled and eyes looking disoriented. But no sooner after hearing the outcome of the case, Takagi seemed too distracted to question why he fainted in the first place.

_Ignorance is bliss_, Shinichi thought.

(Though in his head, they were spoken in Kuroba’s voice.)

* * *

It was only till Shinichi reached home then he remembered he hadn’t eaten for the entire day, but his stomach seemed used to it, or perhaps it had given up trying to remind Shinichi it even existed. He shuffled his way to the kitchen and switched on the lights, wearily looking around to find something to eat (not drink i.e. coffee). 

He spotted the basket of fruits sitting on the counter—the fastest meal he could find—and reached out for an apple. 

His hand hovered over the fruit as he frowned.

The Kaitou Kid card, along with the little imprint that should be on the apple was gone; it was clearly a brand new apple. 

Shinichi turned to his fridge. The bag, which contained most of Kaitou Kid’s costume, was gone too.

Sighing, Shinichi grabbed the apple and gave it a bite. Now that he had some solid food, he wouldn’t feel too guilty for his non-empty stomach if he drank some coffee. He took a mug from the rack, and another bite from the apple— 

Shinichi nearly choked.

Through the kitchen window above his basin, he spotted Kuroba squatting in his backyard.

He dropped the mug and apple and stomped outside.

“What are you doing?” Shinichi scowled over Kuroba’s shoulder.

Kuroba stood up and turned, dusting his hands and (Shinichi’s) shirt. “Your plants are dying because of your pathetic care.” Kuroba gave Shinichi the side-eye. 

Shinichi looked down to check Kuroba’s deed. The only two potted plants he had in his backyard were now neatly pruned, and they looked much alive and new, like the first time his mother gave them to him last fall. The dead leaves and stems were gathered next to the plants.

“I wouldn’t say dying when they’re growing,” Shinichi muttered.

Kuroba rolled his eyes. “It’s called _overcrowding_. And that’s bad.”

“Ok, plant expert. Now get out of my property.”

Kuroba put out his hand. “You promised to give me the gemstone.”

“I didn’t,” Shinichi reminded. “I said we’re going to talk.”

“The murderer confessed, and I saved your plants. I don’t think there’s any need for a talk. Just give me the gemstone.”

Shinichi couldn’t deny Kuroba did help in getting the murderer to confess, but he certainly didn’t ask him to save his plants. Still, he didn’t intend to bring that up and cause another pointless conversation, so he took out the gemstone from his jacket.

Under the dark sky with little light, the gemstone looked even more impressive than he saw earlier this morning. Shinichi glanced up, checking for Kuroba’s reaction. He looked unimpressed, though Shinichi figured the thief must have encountered much more valuable ones.

Which only made Shinichi wonder why Kuroba was so desperate to get _this_ gemstone back. 

“I only have one question,” Shinichi said. Before Kuroba could argue, Shinichi continued, “Just tell me who stabbed you, and I won’t pursue the matter.”

Kuroba frowned. “I’m still not telling you.”

“Take it as that I'm curious. Once I know who it is, I’ll never speak about the stabbing incident again.” Shinichi waved the gemstone in his hand. “And you’ll have this back.”

Kuroba considered for a moment. “You have to delete the photos of me as Kid too.”

Shinichi pursed his lips. He was still hoping he could hold onto them and used it in the future for_ real_ threats, but he knew if he refused, this negotiation would go nowhere. Sighing inwardly, he nodded. “Ok.”

There was a few seconds of silence in which Kuroba readdressed the potted plants by their feet, and Shinichi wondered if he was going to back out on the deal again. But then Kuroba looked up, and something in his eyes changed. It wasn’t like the gutsy gleam Shinichi saw in the hospital, or the playful glint that could be found on a daily basis.

His eyes looked tired, and a little sad. And both seemed out of place and strange on someone like the ever-charming Kuroba Kaito and the invincible Kaitou Kid—

“It’s me,” Kuroba said. “I stabbed myself.”

Taking the gemstone from Shinichi’s weakened grasp, Kuroba raised it under the moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! And reviews are loved


	6. Chapter 6

There were lots of things running through Shinichi’s mind, but by the time he could untie the knot in his throat, Kuroba was already done with his gemstone-check. A quick flick of his wrist and the gem was gone, and he brushed past Shinichi and towards the backyard door.

Shinichi followed Kuroba into his kitchen too. “You... stabbed yourself?” he said to Kuroba’s back.

Kuroba glanced at him, askance. “I thought we’re never going to speak about it again?”

“I just want to clarify, in case I’ve heard it wrong—”

“Yes, I stabbed myself.”

Shinichi quickened his steps, cutting Kuroba’s path towards his living room. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Then what would make sense?” Kuroba crossed his arms.

“You tell me.”

Tilting his head, Kuroba scrutinised Shinichi for a brief moment before he suddenly burst out laughing, but there was something dry in his voice, making it all hoarse and painful for Shinichi to hear.

“Are you pissed because you were expecting my answer to be… something exciting?” Kuroba gestured his hands around, pretending to be shooting with his finger-gun. “Like, maybe someone from a deadly, criminal organization was hunting me down because I’m a threat to their secret plot?”

Shinichi pursed his lips. Honestly, that guess did cross his mind, but it was definitely not an answer he hoped, not just for the sake of Kuroba _or_ Kaitou Kid, but for the safety of all the innocent people that could be implicated… The last thought brought back some memories Shinichi didn’t want to remember, and he squashed them all like bugs.

“I’ve never thought like that,” Shinichi muttered, his voice hardened like his features.

Kuroba’s stare turned unnerving, as if trying to detect the lie in Shinichi’s words. But he must have failed to find anything, because after a while he simply turned away and treated the whole moment as nothing but a breath of air.

“Then you jolly well accept my answer,” Kuroba drawled.

Shinichi frowned. “It’s really the truth?”

“I may be a good liar, but I will always honour my words,” Kuroba said, walking around Shinichi without glancing once back. “I never break a deal once I agree to one.”

Kuroba slammed the front door shut, leaving Shinichi standing in his living room, suddenly and painfully aware he was alone…

Shinichi sighed, pulling out his phone from his pocket. He browsed through his photo gallery, deleting everything that involved proving Kuroba as Kaitou Kid.

“Done,” he muttered, even if no one could hear.

Both of them—Kaitou Kid and Edogawa Conan—were equally good liars in their own role, but in terms of honouring words, Kuroba definitely won that title; Besides lying, Shinichi had broken so many promises that he sometimes wondered which one did he exactly done more.

But either way, he didn’t want to add on to those numbers, even if it was a promise he made to a thief.

And maybe Kuroba was right. Or half-right, to be exact. When his answer didn’t fit in with anything that Shinichi had guessed, it did piss him off. But no, it wasn’t at Kuroba. It was at himself—Because if he had expected that answer, Shinichi would never have asked.

There wasn’t just a fine line between curiosity and concern; there was an _even _finer line between curiosity and inquisitive.

A momentary image of Kuroba’s downcast eyes flashed across Shinichi’s mind.

More than crossing a line, Shinichi might have torn Kuroba’s wound even bigger.

And he hated himself for being that guy.

* * *

In the next five days that passed since Kuroba stomped out of Shinichi’s house, they hadn’t talked, much less mentioned the incident again; be it about the stabbing, Kuroba’s other identity, and everything that happened in Shinichi’s backyard that night. Shinichi would consider it as keeping to the deal, but Kuroba seemed to be making the extra effort of avoiding him altogether.

But it wasn’t an easy feat, especially when they were living right next to each other, and the fact that Kuroba’s doves were just as bothersome as him.

Shinichi sighed, staring at the drips of bird poop stain on his mail box. It had been the fourth time this month, and for the three previous occasions, Shinichi had cleaned them off himself, just because he didn’t want to cause any unnecessary tension or trouble with Kuroba Kaito, who he thought was a normal, Japanese citizen that had some fetish for birds.

_But now _that he knew these doves belonged to_ the_ Kaitou Kid, Shinichi didn’t feel like letting this matter go anymore. If the thief could train his doves to spy on people and deliver secret messages, asking them not to poop on his mailbox should be as simple as breathing—

Or maybe, Kuroba _had_ been instructing his doves to poop on his mailbox after all.

Putting his mails back so he could get them later, Shinichi stomped over to Kuroba’s house. Coincidentally, an old man was standing by the front door with some keys in his hand, just like the dozen other times when Shinichi spotted different men and women entering Kuroba's house.

“Oi,” Shinichi yelled. “Kuroba.”

The old man turned, watching nervously as Shinichi approached him.

“Excuse me?” the old man said, his voice low and soft and so, so in-character that Shinichi couldn’t help but admit he was always secretly impressed with Kuroba’s ability to change his voice. Like now, obviously.

“I know you’re in a disguise, so don’t bother.” Shinichi jabbed a thumb towards his house. “You better ask your doves to stop shitting on my mailbox, or I’m going to—”

The door opened.

“Jii-chan?” Kuroba said, before his face turned all stony when he noticed Shinichi’s presence.

“Kaito-botchama?” The old man gasped, his eyes turned wider than his round spectacles. “H-He knows?”

Shinichi blinked.

Kuroba managed a smile.

The old man didn't look happy.

“I’m… going to go first.” Shinichi cast an apologetic glance at Jii before slowly backtracking away from the door, but he stopped, suddenly remembering why he was here in the first place. He scowled over at Kuroba, who still seemed too muted to say anything. “By the way, if you’re not going to control your damn doves, I’m going to get a cat.”

Shinichi left.


	7. Chapter 7

Shinichi didn’t realise he had fallen asleep until he woke up to the sound of tapping echoing in his head. He picked up his coffee from his study table, hoping to get rid of the headache and weariness, but it was only when he looked at the reflection of his darkened computer screen then he realised the sound wasn’t in his head, but from the window behind him.

He turned in his seat, staring eye to eye at the dove outside his windowsill on the second floor. It pecked its beak against the glass again.

Placing his mug down, he stood up and opened the window. The dove flew away, but it returned immediately and settled on Shinichi’s wrist

Shinichi waved his hand, but the dove didn’t budge. “Get away—”

“Hey!”

Shinichi looked down, staring at Kuroba who was standing behind the fence in his backyard. He pointed at his thigh, and then at the dove.

Now that Shinichi noticed, there was a note tied to the dove’s leg. Once he pulled the strings and released the note, the dove flew back and sat on Kuroba's shoulder. Shinichi grudgingly unrolled the paper while keeping eye contact with Kuroba.

> _sorry for shitting on ur mailbox. pls forgive me.  
_ _xoxo tamago_

Once Shinichi glanced up from the paper, Kuroba showed a thumbs up.

As if he would ever return that.

Picking up a piece of paper and pen from his table, Shinichi made sure Kuroba was watching him as he wrote:

> _What a coincidence. I’m thinking of naming my new cat Tamago too._
> 
> _Yours truly,   
Kudo Shinichi_

Shinichi then folded the paper into a plane—one he learnt from Mitsuhiko in the past—before tossing it out of his window. Kuroba’s face lit up as he watched the plane gliding towards him until he caught it with a raised hand. 

It was amusing to see Kuroba looking so innocently impressed at Shinichi’s craft when he had the capability to fly himself. But what was even more amusing was the way his face fell after reading what Shinichi had written on the note. 

* * *

By the time Shinichi closed his laptop, walked down the stairs and headed out of his house, Kuroba was already standing beside his mailbox and scrubbing the bird poop stains away. 

Shinichi ambled his way over. “How is it going?”

“Fantastic,” Kuroba muttered, giving Shinichi the side-eye.

“Good. And tell your doves not to shit on my mailbox again.”

“Do you think I’m some kind of God?” Kuroba chuckled, shaking his head. “You have no idea how much I wished I have the power to control where they shit too.”

“But of all people, why only _my_ mailbox?” Shinichi gestured over at Kuroba’s house and the rest of others along their street. “The statistics are a little off.”

“Or you can consider it as a sign of good luck.”

“The weirdest of luck, you mean?” 

Kuroba contemplated for a moment. “That counts.”

Shinichi briefly glanced at Kuroba’s house. It had been a few hours since Shinichi encountered the old man, and given that Kuroba was free to clean now, his visitor must be gone…

“How does he know me?”

“Who?”

“You know who I’m referring to.”

Kuroba impassively folded his cloth in half and gave the mail-box a second clean. “Why do you even think he knows you?”

“So does he, or not?” Shinichi challenged.

It seemed Kuroba didn't know how to improvise his way through this lie, so he shrugged. “Well, who wouldn’t know you, the _brilliant _Detective of the East?”

Shinichi hadn't heard of that title in a long while, and the fact that it was Kuroba who said it added another three layers of weirdness. Shinichi cleared his throat. “That’s before Edogawa Conan happened. But now—”

“But now you give yourself too little credit,” Kuroba muttered. 

“Well, don’t you too?” Shinichi said back quietly instead. 

Kuroba stopped his wiping mid-way and turned, staring blankly at Shinichi. 

It wasn’t just once that Kaitou Kid did what he’d done (for the greater good despite his criminal records or methods). And it wasn’t just twice Shinichi figured them out and exposed him (even though Kid never needed the validation). Shinichi wasn’t sure if there were more instances he’d missed, but he wouldn’t doubt that from happening. 

So, even though Shinichi didn't need a logical mind to help someone, he felt obliged to know who landed Kaitou Kid in that state, given how he was no longer Edogawa Conan and had the capabilities and means to help him as Kudo Shinichi. It seemed like the least he could do. 

But he didn’t expect it to backfire so badly.

Knowing full well what the silence carried, Shinichi cleared his throat, relieving the pain of both of them having to go through it. He also guessed Kuroba's efforts to detour away from the subject of the old man’s identity was one of his many other methods to avoid a conversation too.

“Just something curious,” Shinichi began a new topic, whilst pretending to not see the slack of Kuroba’s shoulders. “Why did you move in even though you know I’m your neighbour?”

Kuroba looked at him accusingly. “I didn’t know at first; Your house wasn’t registered under your name when I checked.”

Shinichi hummed, suddenly aware of his slip-up. He had left his old home and moved in here since he started work, but the house belonged to his distant great-uncle on his mother’s side, who left it behind after he and his family migrated to Australia a decade ago. Though the property deed wasn’t transferred, it was almost as good as it being given to them. 

“But you didn’t move after you knew,” Shinichi answered back.

Kuroba rolled his eyes. “Do you think it’s very fun to move houses? Not to mention when you have 63 doves.”

Shinichi gaped. “You have… 63 doves?”

“Yes. Anyway, I’m done,” Kuroba said, stepping away from the mailbox and gave the top a few pats. 

Shinichi came over to have a closer look. True to Kuroba’s words, it was clean from the bird poop stains.

“So,” Kuroba kicked away a pebble under his shoes. “You’re not going to get a cat, are you?”

Shinichi regarded him curiously. “Are you afraid of cats?”

“No.” Kuroba rubbed a hand behind his neck, looking uncomfortable. Just when Shinichi thought he wouldn’t answer, Kuroba spoke, “I just… don’t like what they eat.”

Shinichi frowned, and an imaginary checklist appeared in his head as he started ticking off the things a person would fear… “Lizards?” Shinichi said. “Cockroaches?” he suggested another when Kuroba didn’t reply.

Still refusing to answer, Kuroba whirled around and headed home.

* * *

“What are you reading?”

Shinichi glanced across his shoulder before he awkwardly scrolled down the website, hoping to hide the headlines. But Inspector Megure had already caught it.

“Kaitou Kid’s heist? That sure brings back some memories,” he said, adding a laugh. “The first time you went head to head with him on that helicopter ride…”

“Yeah.” Shinichi shifted in his seat, wondering if there was a difference between 'bringing back old memories' and it 'being_ part_ of his memories'.

Inspector Megure leaned against his table, eyebrows raised. “Why are you reading about him anyway?”

Shinichi shrugged and closed the browser tab. “It just popped up as the next article of the news I was previously reading.” Which was the truth, to some extent; the Kaitou Kid’s article was under the list of his recommended news, but there was no need to elaborate on that.

“I heard the museum is just a couple of blocks away.” Inspector Megure eyed over Shinichi. “Will you drop by his heist later?”

Shinichi shook his head as he started arranging his files. “I have other better things to do tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! reviews are always loved :)


	8. Chapter 8

What Shinichi meant when he said _he had better things to do_ was doing exactly what he always did even after Kaitou Kid had resurfaced six months ago—working overtime to finish up his reports (which was a little unfair because Sherlock Holmes definitely didn’t have to do this). He’d overheard some of his colleagues commenting if they should drop by the heist since it was near, and Shinichi was tempted to advise them against it, just in case one of Kid's 63 doves happened to poop on them.

He then remembered he had no reason to explain why he knew that specific number besides admitting that Kaitou Kid was his neighbour.

And so, for the rest of the evening as his colleagues passed by his table, he zoned out from their conversations once he knew it was related to Kid.

By the time Shinichi finished his work and drove out of the headquarters, the streets were dark and nearly empty. He contemplated whether to pass the museum where Kaitou Kid held his heist, but figuring it was out of the way from the _place_ he wanted to go, he gave up on that thought. 

The latter was his priority anyway.

Although it was just a fifteen minutes drive away from the headquarters, Shinichi hadn’t dropped by for a very long time, and he only realised he’d missed this place until he got to see it again; he remembered the flower shop, and that dented lamp post, and the alley that never failed to give him—Edogawa Conan—the creeps even during broad daylights. He slowed down as the streets grew dangerously familiar, and he decided to park his car at the sidewalk and walk the remaining distance. 

Besides the letter stickers, Mouri’s windows were as good as not existing when it comes to being soundproof.

Nonetheless, the breeze and quietness did help Shinichi to sooth the nervous tingling in his stomach, and he was ironically glad he hadn’t thought of just returning back to his car—

“Kudo-kun!”

Shinichi froze, his neck robotically turned towards the dark and petite shadow, which he definitely failed to spot from a distance. But when the figure stepped into a better light, Shinichi almost sighed out loud in relief.

“Azusa-san,” Shinichi greeted back.

“It’s been so long since I saw you.” Azusa gave him the once-over, her smiley features turned a little worried. “Did you lose weight? Oh you…”

Shinichi checked his watch. “Was there a special occasion? It’s quite late for you to be closing the store at such timing.”

She laughed sheepishly and rubbed a hand behind her neck. “An ex-colleague dropped by and we talked so it took much longer than usual.”

“I see…” 

Azusa caught Shinichi’s glance at the dark office above them. “Are you here for Mouri-san?”

Shinichi wasn’t sure what to say, but he didn’t want to lie either. He shrugged as a reply.

Azusa seemed to understand. “Mouri-san’s doing great," she said, giving him a pat on his shoulder. "Just this morning, he came down for coffee and said he’d got a new case.”

“A new case?” Shinichi straightened, feeling a tug at the corner of his lips. 

“Yeah! I think it’s got to do with some kind of fraud, but he didn’t go into much details,” Azusa chimed. “His business is improving. I think it’s because of the recent burglary case he helped to solve for the pet shop just down the street. News must have spread.”

Shinichi had no idea what Azusa was referring to, but no matter what cases they were, he was glad there was something for Mouri to do than sitting around in the house — at best, reading newspapers, at worse, drinking in the middle of the day. And at least when there were clients, he would clear up the beer cans and newspapers on his own without Ran fussing over him. (Given that Ran was really away now, he definitely needed the initiatives to do the cleaning up himself.)

He balled a fist in his pocket, nibbling back the temptation to go up to check if he was right.

A notification popped up on Azusa’s phone, lighting up her screen as she glanced at the time. “Ohmygod, it’s so late already! And I still have a morning shift tomorrow,” Azusa whined before biding a goodbye. “Goodnight, Kudo-kun.”

“Thanks. And goodnight.”

“Oh!” Azusa turned around at the last minute. “You should drop by one day for some coffee too!”

Shinichi was glad she didn’t wait for his answer before skipping away—it would be one less promise he didn’t have to make and break.

* * *

The first thing Shinichi saw when he stepped out of his car wasn’t his own house but Kuroba’s, but it was warranted with a good reason; everybody would be curious to know what was inside the house belonging to an internationally, wanted thief, what’s more when he just finished a fresh heist.

(He tried not to remember the night when he saw that said thief lying in his own blood with a knife stuck in his waist.)

But that wonderment didn’t last long when the second thing he saw after stepping out of his car was a white dove sitting on his mail box.

“It’s you.” Shinichi narrowed his eyes. He rolled up a sleeve, trying to look a little menacing as he swatted it off with a hand, but the dove rebelled by fluttering its wings on the spot before sitting atop of his mailbox again. On a positive note, there wasn’t any bird poop stain. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep in your cage or something?” Shinichi scowled, trying for another swat. “If you poop again, I’m going to drag your owner out here to clean it, even if it’s in the middle of the night.”

The dove cooed. 

Since Shinichi was already standing here before his mailbox, he thought he might as well get his mails. He grudgingly unfastened the latch while making sure the dove didn’t leave his sight. There were bills, bills, a postcard from his mother, bills—

“Oi!” Shinichi snapped when the dove plucked out an envelope from his hands and soared towards Kuroba’s house. 

He was _definitely_ going to adopt a cat.

The dove was fast as it flew into the room through the balcony on the second floor, but the one getting the threats would be its owner anyway. Shinichi stomped towards Kuroba’s front door, preparing for a knock—

Strange, Shinichi thought, as he stared at the unlocked door. 

All the frustration for his stolen mail was forgotten, leaving only an upsetting feeling swirling in the pit of his stomach.

(He _really _tried not to remember the night when he saw that said thief lying in his own blood with a knife stuck in his waist, but it happened again.)

“Kuroba,” he called out through the tiny gap. There was no answer. He tried again, and added a warning that he would come in if Kuroba didn’t reply. By the third time, Shinichi pushed the door opened and entered.

The house was so dark to a point it felt like he was stepping into an abyss. He patted a hand along the wall beside him and flicked the first switch he found.

The lights flickered, nearly blinding him.

Then he saw Kaitou Kid lying on the ground.

Or rather an incomplete version of Kaitou Kid—him only donned in his blue shirt and white pants.

Shinichi wasn’t any close to being a teleporter, but he found himself flying across the room before he even realised he did. He squatted next to Kuroba, hands hovering over his body as he froze, suddenly unsure of what to do.

“Blood. Check for blood,” Shinichi had to say out loud to get his own brain and body to work. He carefully shifted Kuroba's body, checking his back.

There wasn’t any blood, nor anything stuck in his body anywhere, but he could feel Kuroba shivering under his touch. His face was also pale, forehead glistering with sweat, and his eyes were squeezed shut rather than closed. 

“Hey?” Shinichi tapped on Kuroba's rigid shoulders. “Kuroba. Can you hear me?” 

He let out a low groan, and his breathing grew deeper, and faster...

"Kuroba—"

Out of the blue, Kuroba lifted an arm and grabbed onto the front of Shinichi’s shirt. The tension could popped all of his buttons, but Shinichi lightly patted on Kuroba’s hand, trying to calm and sooth his grasp. 

As though he found a new lifeline, Kuroba released Shinichi's shirt and clung onto his hand instead.

“Aoko…” he mumbled in between his short breaths.

Shinichi felt the grip tightened. He continued patting.

“Breathe, Kuroba,” Shinichi whispered. “Breathe.”

“I’m sorry Aoko,” Kuroba muttered. “I’m so… so sorry.”

Kuroba’s face twisted in pain, so much that even Shinichi could feel it himself, and he believed that whoever Aoko was, seeing Kuroba like this would make them say the same thing: 

“It’s okay, Kaito,” Shinichi said. “I forgive you.”

It seemed those six words were the passcode to end Kuroba’s misery; his features slowly softened to a rest and his breathing grew back to normal. The only thing unchanged was his grip around Shinichi’s hand, still tight and clinging strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reviews are loved!


	9. Chapter 9

The pain on his forehead felt like an ant bite at first; a sharp pinch that went away as quickly as it happened. It wasn’t very strange given he had woken up to all kinds of migraines in his life, but Shinichi had never gotten one that came in a set of three. Three attacks, a cooing sound, and then three—

Shinichi winced, attempting to peel open his deadweight eyelids. But it wasn’t just his eyelids that felt heavy; something was weighing his face down, and he couldn’t quite breathe properly too. He blinked, staring at the white ceiling above him… except that it wasn’t a ceiling.

Fluttering its white wings over Shinichi’s face, the dove pecked his forehead three times again.

“You little—" Shinichi swatted a hand over his face and flung half his body off the floor. 

The dove flew away, joining another that was perched on the top of the huge television set; one that Shinichi clearly didn’t have.

He wondered which was more ridiculous: the fact it only just occurred to him this wasn’t his living room, or that he felt he’d slept better than he ever had on his own bed. 

Shinichi grudgingly rubbed his forehead.

Ah, he’d figured what was the most ridiculous of all.

His right hand was still holding onto Kuroba’s.

And vice versa.

After Kuroba managed to calm down last night, Shinichi slowly unclasped Kuroba’s grip and tried to wake him up, but no sooner his hyperventilating fits returned and persisted for a while, and only when Shinichi took his hand again, he would return back to normal. 

It was a continuous cycle, but that method always worked without fail. 

Realising he couldn’t leave Kuroba lying on the floor the entire night (it was an option, but not a good one), Shinichi dragged him to the couch. He sat on the floor next to Kuroba, observing his breathing patterns closely to determine if it was safe for him to leave him alone. Who knew he would fall asleep too. 

Judging from the light outside, it must be way past dawn. Or worse, late morning. But it was fine anyway. His report was already done, and the cases he had on hand weren’t of much priority, though Inspector Megure would definitely appreciate if he could solve them as soon as possible.

Holding his breath, Shinichi slowly unclenched his hand from Kuroba's one finger at a time.

Thankfully, he didn’t stir. 

Shinichi stood up, letting out a quiet sigh and glanced across the living room. Now that he had the time and focus to notice, the layout of Kuroba’s house was similar to his, the only differentiating factor was the furniture. Most of what Shinichi had at home belonged to his great-uncle, saved for a few others that his mother bought to spice up the house. But it was the opposite for Kuroba. The sparse space in between his furniture emphasised the lack of the latter, and if he really wanted to move, he could do that in less than a few hours.

Was it really for the 63 doves?

Coincidentally, a dove cooed, breaking his mind tour around Kuroba's house. Shinichi blinked away and stared at another dove—which he didn't notice before—sitting on the back of the couch.

Shinichi narrowed his eyes, suddenly remembering about his mail. “Alright,” he whispered to the dove and at the ones that were still perched on the television. “Which one of you stole my mail?”

A dove cooed.

“…What the hell?”

Shinichi froze. He slowly turned, looking at Kuroba who was now propped up on the couch with his elbow. 

“What are you doing here?” he muttered, eyes equally wide as Shinichi’s.

There was a slight painful tightness in his chest, like the few seconds before the APTX antidote truly kicked in, but he guessed the only difference was he wasn’t going to shrink or expand this time. “One of your doves stole my mail,” Shinichi said, and he was thankful he didn’t stutter.

Kuroba frowned. His eyes were a little droopy from waking up, but there was no sign of weariness in his tone, “So you trespassed into my house?” he said, fulling sitting up on the couch.

“Your door wasn’t locked.”

“So you trespassed into my house?”

Shinichi bit his lip, unsure if he should risk saying this one: “I tried warning you, but you didn’t answer.”

“So you trespassed into my house?”

Shinichi cast Kuroba a dark look. “You’re sounding like a broken recorder.”

“This is my house. I can be whatever I like.” 

“Fair point.” Shinichi put out a hand. “Give me back my mail and I’ll leave.”

Kuroba stared at Shinichi’s hand before a glint of amusement lit up his eyes. “Don’t you feel a sense of Deja vu in this?”

“Funny,” Shinichi deadpanned. “My mail, would you please.”

“I don’t know where it is.”

Shinichi couldn’t blame him for that. “Your dove flew into the room that has a balcony. It might be in that one,” he suggested.

“Hm.” Kuroba stood up from the couch and nonchalantly brushed some feathers he found on his pants (it must have happened quite commonly). “So you trespassed my house so early in the morning just to get some mail? It must be important.” 

Like what Shinichi guessed, it seemed Kuroba had no recollection of what happened last night, but he wasn’t sure when it would last till bits of his memories returned. He chose a safer route and didn’t answer.

Kuroba didn’t seem to regard anything odd to Shinichi’s silence. “Is it a fan-mail? Or a love letter from Mouri Ran?”

A heartbeat.

Shinichi's hands squeezed.

“No.”

The words came instantly before Shinichi could register himself saying it, and Kuroba looked at him, obviously noticing something was off, not just from Shinichi’s tone but probably the entire geography of his face.

For an instant, Kuroba seemed guilty, but Shinichi felt no satisfaction from it. “Ok. I'll go find it,” he awkwardly murmured before approaching the stairs.

Just when Shinichi was glad the whole conversation was over, he noticed Kuroba stopped in his tracks, his shoulders hunched in a tense way that wasn't so ten seconds ago. Then, with his back still facing the living room, Kuroba glanced at the floor, and something told Shinichi it wasn’t a coincidence that it was the spot he found Kuroba lying last night. 

Despite turning just half of his body, Shinichi could see the clench in Kuroba’s cheek and the slight distant look in his eye. There was something about the way his fingers curled slightly into a fist, too. 

_He remembered,_ Shinichi thought, and he wondered how he managed to read him, as though he knew him since a long time ago.

Yes, for Kaitou Kid. But not for Kuroba Kaito.

“You came last night,” Kuroba said, more of a statement than a question.

There really wasn’t any other way to go around it. “…I did.”

Without another word, Kuroba headed up the stairs.

Shinichi never really liked Kuroba’s doves, be it the one that just pecked his head or the one that always shit on his mailbox. But as he waited in the living room alongside with the doves, he was strangely comforted by their presences.

A sound of click and footsteps after, Kuroba returned, passing an envelope to Shinichi. He recognized it as his mail and accepted it, before finding a Band-Aid underneath. 

“It’s for your head,” Kuroba explained.

“Oh.” Shinichi brushed a finger past his forehead, feeling the prick from the pecked wound. “Thanks.”

Kuroba pursed his lips. “Don’t thank me.”

Well, right. Of course Shinichi shouldn’t thank him when it was his damn dove that did it. But he decided to account this another time—

“But thank _you_,” Kuroba added, beating Shinichi's attempt to say something else in reply.

Shinichi was used to an ungrateful Kuroba, the cheeky Kuroba and the annoying Kuroba, but he certainly wasn’t prepared for a thankful one. He spent the silence pocketing his Band-Aid before gesturing to the doves. “Do you let all of your 63 doves out?”

Kuroba blinked, looking a little confused for the change of topic, but he didn’t voice any reason to not continue. “No. Only the obedient ones.”

“Clearly a lack of better judgement when you let the one who caused this to be free.” Shinichi pointed at his forehead. He noticed Kuroba’s lips slightly tugged, and strangely, it was satisfying to know he was responsible for it. Shinichi continued, “But you shouldn’t thank me either. Thank the dove that stole my mail, whichever it is. I think it lured me in to find you.”

Then, a heartbeat or two later—

“That’s it?” Kuroba asked, the crispness of his voice breaking the silence. “No more questions?” 

“What?”

Kuroba walked towards the couch and pulled out a packet of seeds from his white pants. “You’re at least 500% less curious and persistent than the first time,” he said.

Shinichi shrugged. “Given the few expected answers, I don’t think I’m in any position to ask.”

The two doves from the television set joined the one at the couch. They started bobbing up and down, clearly awaiting for Kuroba to pour the seeds out, but he seemed too distracted in his silent thoughts to notice or do so.

Shinichi then plucked the packet from Kuroba’s loosened grasp, and said, “But I guess the only way for me to confirm my answer is to wait when the time is right. Or let the answer eventually come to me.” 

Once Shinichi poured the seeds into his hand, the three doves immediately flocked to him, taking turns to feed. With his other hand, Shinichi resealed the zip and tossed the packet back to Kuroba, which he caught without battling an eyelid. Once the short feast was over, the doves scattered back to their positions, bobbing up and down again and eyeing on the packet in Kuroba’s hand.

“You should take a break,” Shinichi advised. He didn't expect an answer, and neither did he need one, so he turned, heading out of Kuroba's house.

But if Shinichi had waited longer and been more perspective, he might have heard Kuroba whispering, “I’ve already taken two years,” right before the front door closed behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a bummer i broke my streak because I had assignments to do, but hope you guys enjoyed this one. Reviews are loved!


	10. Chapter 10

Shinichi had purposely taken an hour off work so he could drop by a toy store, get the gift, and make it just in time for the birthday party. But just when he was just about to leave, a piercing scream echoed throughout the toy store, and in the next second he found a woman lying in the middle of the aisle, death by cyanide poisoning. 

Frankly, it was a lack of planning on his part—who knew his random murder magnet ability would decide to activate today? 

In the end it wasn’t a hard case, but it was a painfully long one to wrap up. By the time he managed to calm the guilty husband, the bawling mother-in-law, and wait for his colleagues to collect every piece of evidences for the report, a good two hours had passed. 

He was now late to the party.

After parking his car (he nearly knocked over his mail box when he did), Shinichi dashed to the house across the street.

Kyoko answered the door.

“I’m so sorry for being late.” Shinichi glanced past her shoulder, slightly relieved that the party was still on-going. He spotted Sakura, the birthday girl, laughing in her pink frilly dress with her friends.

“I should thank you for coming actually.” Kyoko returned an apologetic look and stepped aside for Shinichi to enter. “You must have been busy at work.” 

“Not at all.” Shinichi smiled, glancing at the fancy decorations and the home-cooked food spread across a make-shift table in the living room. Honestly, Shinichi was probably no where as busy as compared to Kyoko today. Being a single, working mom was tough enough, but Kyoko never failed to put aside everything for her daughter. All Shinichi had to do was to keep to the promise he made when Sakura passed him her birthday invitation last week. 

He had no excuse for anything—

“Shinichi nii-chan!” Sakura skipped towards Shinichi and gave him a tight hug. “You're here!”

“Yes, but I do have to apologise for being late.”  
  
"It's okay!"

Shinichi bent down, whipping the box he had hidden behind his back. “Here’s your gift.”

“Thank you so much!” Sakura hugged the present under her arm before grabbing his hand. “Now dat’ you’re here, you got ta’ see this too!” she exclaimed, dragging him across the room and to the crowd of children and parents.

“So who wants to be the— Oh! I guess we have a volunteer!”

It was a little intimidating to see all the turned heads and attention on him, but knowing the source of the voice did help to find some comfort in the awkwardness, even if _he_ was the cause of it. 

Kuroba waved Shinichi over.

Given Kuroba’s closeness with Sakura and Kyoko since the first day he moved here, it wasn’t surprising to see him invited. But it was a little irksome to see him charming all of Sakura’s friends and their parents too. 

Sakura squealed and gave Shinichi a surprised push to the front. Before Shinichi could react to her strength, Kuroba grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward to his side. 

“Let’s all give our volunteer a warm welcome,” he said and began clapping. Everyone followed.

Clearly, Kuroba needed to check his vocabulary and understand what _volunteer _really meant.

Kuroba pulled out a deck of cards from his pocket and fanned them out, showing Shinichi the back side. “I need you to pick a card from the deck.”

Though suspicious, Shinichi silently agreed. It was six of diamonds.

Then, after Kuroba placed the rest of the cards away, he snapped a finger, and a dove flew out from his sleeve and settled on his hand. Everyone awed in amazement, leaving only Shinichi the odd one out. Besides the simplicity of the trick, he didn’t feel good knowing the magic Kuroba had in mind involved his dove. He already had a fair share of bad experiences, like getting his property shitted on and his forehead pecked—

“Now, please hand the card to Tamago.”

Shinichi’s eyes twitched. He was hoping his glare might transmit his warnings to Kuroba or Tamago, but neither seemed bothered. He grudgingly obeyed and passed the card to the dove.

Card now clasped between its beak, Tamago fluttered away from Kuroba’s fingers and settled on Shinichi’s head.

_What THE—_

Kuroba squeezed his shoulder and placed a white hat on his head. “Remember your language,” he whispered. 

Shinichi couldn’t see, but he could definitely _hear_ the smile in Kuroba’s voice.

Kuroba turned to the crowd. “Let’s all count to three, shall we?”

When everyone’s chant hit the number, Shinichi felt a flutter on his head before a warm, and much furrier creature was replaced. It was also the moment Kuroba took the hat away, and a white rabbit immediately bounced into Kuroba’s chest as it nibbled on the same card that Shinichi had drawn out.

Everyone cheered (and Shinichi forced himself to clap just to blend into the crowd).

A few moments after the excitement died down and everyone wanted to see a new trick, Kyoko came out of the kitchen with a huge cake in hand; it was time for the birthday song. Kuroba then performed his last trick by lighting the seven candles with just a wave of his hand.

Everyone scattered after the birthday song, each enjoying the last dessert and chat before heading home for the night. But as for Shinichi, he chose to stand in the kitchen—the most secluded place in the house—and finish the cake in silence. He was quick to talk and gather information from people when it got to do with his work, but being sociable for the sake of socialising wasn’t something he was interested at the moment—

He irritably scratched a sudden itch on his head. It got to be the doing of the dove or the rabbit’s butt...

“Hello, my volunteer.”

Shinichi turned, eyeing Kuroba as he ambled into the kitchen. 

“Of all the tricks, you_ just _had to pull that one,” Shinichi muttered.

“I thought you liked it.” Kuroba tossed his empty paper plate into the trashbin. “You clapped in the end, didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t clap anymore sarcastically if I tried.”

Kuroba chuckled. “You clearly need to work on that.” 

“...Are you a magician?”

It was nice to see Kuroba confused and not look like a smug ass. “What?”

“Not your alter-ego, or _you_.” Shinichi waved a hand over Kuroba, not really sure how to piece his words exactly. “I mean... your career.”

“Not full-time,” Kuroba answered (which ironically surprised Shinichi because he didn’t expect him to reply almost immediately). “I’m a freelancer.”

“So you’ve got an income.” Shinichi rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Yet you steal…”

Rolling his eyes, Kuroba shook his head. “All these redundant questions again—"

The sound of scuffing made both of them turned, watching as two kids—one boy and a girl—nudging and pushing each other until they entered the kitchen together. Judging by their features, Shinichi guessed they were siblings.

Shinichi expected them to approach Kuroba, probably telling him praises and boosting his ego, but turns out they were walking towards him instead.

Kuroba didn’t seem displeased they weren’t his fans. Rather, he looked amused.

"Hello,” the boy greeted, his voice a little dreamy and mesmerised. “Sakura-chan said you’re a detective. Is that true?”

Huh. “Yes, I’m a detective,” Shinichi answered.

“Wow.” The boy widened his eyes as he looked between him and Kuroba. “Sakura-chan is so lucky. She got so many cool neighbours!”

“I also want to be a detective too!” the girl exclaimed. “Do you catch all the bad guys in the world?” she continued, as she swung her finger guns around. 

“Of course. That’s my job.”

It was soft, but Shinichi heard Kuroba snorted. He turned, looking annoyed as Kuroba’s face split into a grin when they made eye contact.

Back then when Shinichi was still Edogawa Conan, they had made a silent pact to not uncover and expose each other real identities (even if Kid stupidly abused the system and disguised as him several times). But now that the pact no longer benefited Shinichi, Kuroba ought to start panicking; he should be going left and right and finding ways to protect his identity and alibi, in case Shinichi decided to bring him down one day out of the blue.

But looking at his comfortable smile, Kuroba seemed confident that the pact still existed, which was actually true. And it wasn’t because Shinichi didn’t have the evidence. Even if he did (which were the photos he chose to delete), those threats would only be used between them and not made known to any third-party, much less the police.

Shinichi hated how Kuroba seemed to be able to read him, and he hated how he couldn’t fully figure him out in return (given all the questions Shinichi hadn’t found an answer to). But what he hated more was the hard fact that when Kuroba smiled at him, there was a horrifying, millisecond moment in which Shinichi thought of… smiling back.

As much as Shinichi adored Sakura, he was glad the party was over.

* * *

Shinichi never expected Kuroba to listen to his advice, and he couldn’t fault him for it when he had played as Kuroba’s role for more than a hundredth time while Haibara Ai played as him; she was always trying to convince Shinichi not to do stupid things, like using the antidote just to make Ran happy for three hours, and then suffering the consequences for the next three months.

So, rather than extra advising, Shinichi decided to watch out for Kuroba instead, but without him realising, of course. Because the last thing he needed was Kuroba to think Shinichi actually had a single strand of care for him, even if he actually had more than five strands of it.

Shinichi liked to think his effort was just an act of a kind, neighbour thing.

Kid had held a total of three heists in the month after his hyperventilating attack. And during those three heists, Shinichi would tweak his radio frequency to match with the Kaitou Kid Task Force’s radio, gaining all of Kid’s information real-time. And when he knew how Kid escaped, he would spy Kuroba’s house by the window of his dark study room, watching and waiting till he safely reached his house. 

It was good to know he didn’t stab himself with a knife while returning home. 

But as for knowing if Kuroba was completely fine _in_ his house… Shinichi believed his intelligent doves would know what to do if he wasn’t.

That was why when Shinichi saw a dove sitting on his mailbox after driving home from work one day, he automatically started to panic. A little.

“Shit.” Shinichi slammed his car door shut and stomped towards the dove. “Did something happen?” 

The dove looked at him with its beady eyes. 

“I asked if Kuroba is alright—”

(Probably thinking he was insane) The dove flew away and into the room with the balcony again.

It eerily felt like a Deja Vu.

Although Kaitou Kid didn’t hold a heist today, Shinichi knew for a fact that the symptoms of PTSD, like panic attacks, could come at the most random times. It was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

Shinichi dashed towards Kuroba's house.

“Hey.” Shinichi rang the doorbell before changing to hammering the door instead. “Kuroba, are you inside?”

There was silence.

Shinichi leaned his ear against the door, trying to pick up any kind of sound. When there was nothing, he crab-walk around the house and covered both hands to prevent the reflective light from hindering his vision when he tried to look through the glass window. The blinds were down, but he could still see some gap—

“Uh, what are you doing?”

Shinichi jolted, whirling around with more relief than shock when he realised it was Kuroba, who was standing a few metres away and looking at him with the strangest look.

“I thought—” Shinichi shook his head. “It’s… nothing.”

Kuroba frowned and slowly walked towards his house. He gave Shinichi the side-eye. “Are you a pervert?”

Shinichi rubbed his temple to get rid of the incoming headache. “No.” 

“Are you stalking me?”

“No.”

“Are you—”

Shinichi gritted his teeth. He was tired, frustrated at his mistake (for relying on a _friggin_ dove), and clearly not in a right mind before he simply blurted, “Your dove was sitting on my damn mailbox.”

Instantly, Kuroba's teasing features disappeared before he nodded slowly in an emotionless understanding (It was strange how Kuroba seemed to get it, though Shinichi was also glad so he didn't have to admit the obvious). Three seconds ticked by in silence, and then Kuroba turned away to unlock the door. 

“I was at the supermarket,” he explained. 

Stupidly, Shinichi just noticed the grocery bag in his hand. He could make out the shape of a cartoon of eggs, and… ham?

“Ok," Shinichi mumbled.

“Yeah. So… thanks. I guess.” Kuroba paused. There was a flash of hesitance in his eyes, though they were gone when he spoke, "Thanks for your concern.”

“Hm, cool,” Shinichi said before pointing to his own house. “I’ll go back now.”

“Ok, cool.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

Shinichi turned and stalked off, not once looking back. When he passed his mail box, he briefly wondered if he should just demolished it; its existence had caused a lot more complications to his life than he liked—

He brushed the ridiculous thought away and returned into his house.

Just two seconds away from entering his study room and suffocating his face into any of his Sherlock Holmes’s books, the doorbell rang. Shinichi frowned, ten percent liking the new distraction but ninety percent dubious about it. Frankly, he had almost forgotten how his doorbell sounded, given the rarity of anybody using it; he’d only interacted with his neighbours on the streets (saved for Kuroba) and rarely had any visitors. His parents got the keys too, so there wasn’t a need for them to use the doorbell. But even if they’d forgotten the keys, Shinichi knew they were somewhere in Russia for a holiday and not in Japan—

_All these redundant questions again_, he thought (annoyingly in Kuroba’s voice), before he decided to just check the answer instead.

He climbed down the stairs and opened the door.

Speak of the devil.

Shinichi made a face. “What is it?”

“...Apparently my gas ran out.” Kuroba raised a hand with a bag of grocery while the other carried a frying pan. “Can I borrow your stove?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reviews are appreciated, truly


	11. Chapter 11

“I can’t believe you’re worse than me,” Kuroba wheezed, his laughter bouncing off every kitchen cabinets, walls, and into Shinichi’s ears, much to his utmost annoyance. “At least I have a pot_ and _a frying pan,” Kuroba continued.

Shinichi crossed his arms. “I don’t have the things that I don’t need, as simple as that.”

Walking towards the counter, Kuroba lifted the lid of the pot and stared inside it. “When was the last time you used this?”

In all honesty, Shinichi didn’t know the pot even existed until Kuroba asked for it and he found it in one of the cabinets. He briefly wondered what kind of excuse would make him and his kitchen-state less pathetic than it already was, but he came up with none.

Then again, why should Shinichi care about Kuroba’s opinions at all?

Thankfully, Kuroba seemed to have moved on from the conversation as he picked up the pot and brought it to the sink. He gave it a good scrub before using it to cook his rice.

Just when Shinichi thought the whole conversation was over, Kuroba laughed again when he pulled out a drawer. “C’mon. You don’t even have a spatula?”

Shinichi bumped Kuroba away from the drawer and searched on his own. When he couldn’t find it, he tried the next drawer, and the next, until he found one. He pointed it at Kuroba’s face (who was trying hard not to laugh again). 

“You shouldn’t be insulting the person who is lending you his kitchen_ and_ gas.”

Kuroba cocked his head to the side and took the spatula. “Since when was I insulting you?” 

Shinichi narrowed his eyes. 

Kuroba grinned, waving the spatula at Shinichi in efforts to calm him down. “I wasn’t insulting you. I’m just concerned.” 

“I don’t need it.”

“Huh.” Kuroba’s smile didn’t falter as he turned back to the pot. “For a moment you sounded almost like me.”

Shinichi closed his eyes in a long-suffering manner. “Just hurry up and cook and then get out of my house.”

Kuroba glanced at him. “Are you going to watch me the entire time?”

“Yes. In case you do something funny, like planting a camera or stashing your stolen diamonds here.”

“Suit yourself. It’s your house after all,” Kuroba said with a shrug and continued his work.

Shinichi had his fair share of his own work too. He swiftly brought his computer down from his study room and to the kitchen, using the counter as his temporary desk. Often when Kuroba walked behind him to get something from the other side of the kitchen, he would tilt his computer screen down while eyeing him suspiciously. In return, Kuroba would laugh.

Speaking of which, Shinichi noted that today was probably the day he heard Kuroba laughed the most number of times. 

Besides those stupid “peeking-incidents,” the kitchen was more than often silent when they were busy with their things, saved for the sizzling sounds from Kuroba’s frying pan and Shinichi’s rapid typing on the keyboard. But for the latter, it became lesser and lesser when Shinichi realised he was getting more and more distracted by the smell of whatever Kuroba was cooking.

And it wasn’t in a bad way.

During Shinichi’s seventh attempt to try reading past the first sentence of his email, Kuroba snapped a finger over at him. 

“Mind passing two plates?” Kuroba paused. “Please tell me you have at least two plates.”

Shinichi decided that five wasn’t very far off from two, so he kept silent and picked what was needed from a cabinet. When he passed the two plates to Kuroba, he caught a glance of the frying pan—fried rice. 

When Shinichi returned to the kitchen counter to continue his work, a plate of the said fried rice appeared in between him and his computer screen. Shinichi shut his laptop, and glanced over at Kuroba who was standing next to him.

“A thank you gift—for letting me use your kitchen,” Kuroba said, gesturing his head at the food.

Shinichi wordlessly took the warm plate, too dumfounded to react. Not only because of Kuroba’s act, he also found himself ridiculously stupid to not realise when Kuroba asked for two plates instead of one.

He watched Kuroba walking to the opposite side of the counter and placed his plate down.

Shinichi blinked. “You’re… eating here?”

“It’s better to eat it while it’s hot,” Kuroba said, already mouthful. "You should too. Stop being a workaholic.”

“I’m not a workaholic,” Shinichi spat, drumming his fingers over his closed laptop. He glanced at the rice, unsure…

Kuroba chuckled. “Scared I’d poison you?” 

Not-so-strangely, that was the last of his worries; the true worry was actually the opposite. Muttering his thanks for the food, he picked up the spoon and took a bite.

It was delicious.

And_ this_ was his worry.

Likewise to the many different versions of Kuroba, Shinichi wasn’t used to _this _version of himself. He hated when one was not acknowledged for their efforts and talent, but he also hated how it was Kuroba that he had to praise.

But Shinichi didn’t have to worry much about it, though. Kuroba was hardly looking at him as he continued to gobble down his own plate of food, as though he hadn’t eaten for days—

Then again, he must be too busy to eat since his next announced heist was coming around the corner.

_Calling me the workaholic… What an irony, _Shinichi thought drily.

“Where or who did you learn to cook this from?” Shinichi casually asked as he resumed his attention to the rice. But from the corner of his eyes, he noticed Kuroba shifted, and there was a millisecond pause as his spoon hovered over his plate before he dug in for the next scoop.

“A childhood friend,” Kuroba said, his voice surprisingly levelled. 

Shinichi nodded. He wasn’t sure what he was nodding to, but it was the only reply he knew to give.

He wondered if that childhood friend’s name happened to be Aoko.

“Anyway, I noticed your plants need a bigger pot. Like seriously.” Kuroba pointed at the window facing the backyard. “You may be a detective, but you’re becoming a murderer yourself.”

Shinichi couldn’t tell if Kuroba was using the distraction method to change the conversation or if he was genuinely worried for his plants, but Shinichi gave him the benefit of the doubt and continued the diverted topic, remarking how he didn’t have the time to change before Kuroba started calling him a plant-murderer for about five times or so. Soon, their conversation wasn’t about the plants anymore; it drifted between significant to insignificant things, like the weather, some gossips about their common neighbours, a bit of Shinichi’s job, and all the names of Kuroba’s doves. 

Their half-eaten fried rice was forgotten for the rest of the time… until Kuroba’s phone rang, and he had to leave.

Shinichi washed the dishes.

All along, Shinichi felt the walls Kuroba built around him were made of glass. No, not because they were easily breakable, not even close, but because of how transparent it was. If Kuroba was willing to switch on the lights on his side, Shinichi could see him entirely through the glass. But if he chose to switch off the lights, there was nothing Shinichi could see. He could try by using a torchlight to shine it through, but what he would see was only his reflection.

(There was him, in _he_.)

But these days, things seemed a little different. It was as if Kuroba was playing with the lights, flickering it on and off; it was common for Kuroba to remain as distant as he always was, but there were times when he would randomly open up a bit more to Shinichi, like during their short and coincidental meetings on the streets, or during those times when Shinichi dragged him out to clean his "freshly-painted" mailbox.

Perhaps it was because Kuroba didn’t find it a risk to share these small, surface-level kind of things about himself, but Shinichi thought otherwise; he marked all of their importance while he listened attentively. Like knowing that Kuroba liked blue explained why all the decks of cards he had were of the colour, or that those loud music Kuroba played wasn’t directly to annoy Shinichi, but because drinking caffeine didn’t work for him.

It all explained many other things, but mostly it came down to the same point—that Kuroba Kaito was still a human, and he really wasn’t as bad as what Shinichi liked to think.

* * *

Being the only blonde in the cafe, it wasn’t hard for Shinichi to spot Miyano Shiho, who was sipping on her coffee as she admired the view outside the cafe. Shinichi glanced at his watch, wondering if he should order a drink, but decided against it as he headed straight for the table.

“Sorry for being late,” Shinichi said, pointing through the window. “Traffic was bad—”

Shiho sipped her drink impassively, her loud slurps cutting Shinichi off before she placed the cup back on the table. “No matter what, your excuses will not bring back the half an hour I have wasted waiting here.”

“Well…”

She picked up a bag from the ground and pushed it across the table.

“Thanks.” Shinichi took the bag and briefly rummaged through it. They were mostly his cancelled bills, some miscellaneous mails and small parcels that reached his old house instead of his current one. Due to some complications in changing all of his mailing address, he had to trouble Shiho to clear, pick up and gather the mails before they met like this once or twice every month.

Shinichi glanced up after the checks. “I would love to stay and chat but—”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh, alright.” Shinichi stood up from his seat. “I’ll see you soon. Send my regards to Professor Agase.”

“Before you go.” Shiho cleared her throat, stopping him in his track. “There’s something you need to know.”

Shinichi sat back down immediately. “What is it?”

Shiho glanced outside of the cafe, looking a little hesitant, or wistful? It was already hard to read her as Haibara Ai, much less as her grown-up self. Shinichi tried to make some guesses. Given his last conversation with Professor Agase…

“Did Satoshi ask you out?”

Shiho whipped her head back._ “What?”_

“Satoshi. The guy from the HR department in your research company?” Shinichi frowned, looking up at the ceiling. “Or was it the IT department?”

“No.” Shiho gritted her teeth as she started muttering incoherently under her breath, though Shinichi could make out a sentence that was close to,_ “he’s going to get it from me.”_

“Then what it is?” Shinichi asked hesitantly.

“It’s not about me. It’s about Mouri-san.”

The name, like magic, squeezed Shinichi’s heart on the cue. The coffee-making machines and chatters around the cafe seemed to disappear for a good three seconds before he could start hearing sound again. “You mean… Ran?” Shinichi said after a long while.

“Who else?”

Shinichi tugged on his collar. “What about her?”

“She went to your house last week,” Shiho said.

Shinichi gaped, eyes so wide he thought they were about to roll out.

“Naturally, when she couldn’t find you, she came over to look for Professor Agase. But he wasn’t in that time, so I answered the door.” Shiho picked up her coffee, taking a slow sip. “She then asked me for your address.”

“Did you give her?”

She stared at Shinichi across the brim of her cup. “I can’t say no to her request, can I?” 

“I... supposed not.” Shinichi dragged a hand down his face. “Did she say anything else?”

“No. She left after a thanks.”

“You said this happened last week?”

“Yes.” Shiho raised an eyebrow. “I assumed that you haven’t seen her?”

Shinichi bit his lips. “No, obviously.” 

Shiho paused, a look of wonderment breeze past her face. “Are you disappointed?” 

Disappointed? Shinichi had a fair share of disappointments in his life, but the churning feeling in his stomach was definitely not close to it

He realised it was more of a dread.

Shinichi wished he could wonder or try to explain why, but he really didn’t have the time for this. He glanced at his watch and stood up from his seat the second time. “Thanks for telling me, but I really have to go.”

Taking his bag of mails, he dashed out of the cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for waiting and reading! reviews and loved


	12. Chapter 12

Shinichi had been to the hospital enough times to know where the lifts were, remember some of the doctors’ names, and even noticed if the hospital change the paintings on the walls. But most of his trips here were always on the first few floors, where the wards of all the serious crimes’ victims resided in. Or worse, where he’d be waiting at the lobby and hoping the victims made it through their first surgery. 

Today was the first time he made it past those floors.

Shinichi stepped out of the lift and glanced around. Even though he was still in the same hospital, the difference between the floors were vast. Doctors weren’t running around, the air didn’t smell like heavy iron, and there weren’t any patients yowling in pain or nurses shouting about the need of a blood pack somewhere… 

He glanced at his watch, realising this wasn’t the time to think about anything else. He was about to ask a passing nurse where the waiting room was when he heard a burst of muffled laughter around the corner. He followed the giggles and chuckles until he found the place he wanted to go.

At the corner of the large space was a playroom for kids, and all of the children had gathered there. Not around toys, though.

It was around Kuroba.

Shinichi didn’t realise he was blatantly staring until the claps broke his blur train of thoughts. He blinked out of his trance and quietly joined the crowd. He wasn’t sure if Kuroba had noticed him before, or that he did and was pretending he didn’t. Either way, Kuroba’s attention now was all on the kids, as though his life mission was to never let their smile fade away.

There were a few adults and nurses watching the show too, and Shinichi camouflaged perfectly in there. He would occasionally follow and clap along with the crowd, but no matter what, he could never resist a smile when the children exclaimed out their enthusiasm for Kuroba’s tricks, regardless of how small or big. 

Being so used to hearing crying and terrors, it was nice for a little change.

Not long later, Kuroba concluded his show and finished it by levitating his shuffled cards in mid-air. He thanked the audiences and supplied them with parting souvenirs—all the children got different animal balloons of their favourite colour, and even the adults audiences got something too; he offered the first nurse a rose, and then another rose to a mother…

“And here’s one for you—"

Kuroba blinked, the stalk of rose frozen in between his fingertips as he stood face to face with Shinichi.

(Shinichi supposed Kuroba didn’t notice him earlier, then.)

Kuroba recovered fast as his parted lips turned into a huge grin. But he still didn’t turn away. He tilted the rose, signalling Shinichi to take it.

Narrowing his eyes, Shinichi relented and pluck the rose out of Kuroba’s hand. He knew if he didn’t take it, Kuroba would refuse to move on and pass his “souvenirs” to the other audiences behind him, so he did what he'd done for the sake of the time.

Yes. Nothing else.

Shinichi glanced at the red rose. Given his pathetic attempts at maintaining his two potted plants, he was definitely no expert, but something told him this rose belonged to the plantation in Kuroba’s backyard.

After Kuroba finished distributing and the crowd had long dispersed, he approached Shinichi with a grin plastered on his face.

“You came,” he said, his statement sounded more like a question. It wouldn’t be as absurd if it wasn’t Kuroba that invited him to come in the first place.

“You asked me to,” Shinichi muttered, clearly remembering the exact moment when Kuroba did: With a propped elbow over their fence, he'd disturbed Shinichi’s quiet morning and told him he was free to come to today's event.

Kuroba’s confused look faltered and he smiled instead. “Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to.”

Shinichi frowned. “Why not?”

He shrugged, saying nothing more.

Now Shinichi felt stupid to be here. Not to add that he even took a half day off from work and shifted his meeting with Shiho earlier because of this. Then again, it could be his fault for treating Kuroba’s words of any importance in the first place. 

_“Are you disappointed?”_ he remembered Shiho asked.

He found this situation more relatable than any other ones he had been in.

Deleting Shiho's words from his mind, Shinichi pushed the rose into Kuroba’s chest. “I don’t want this.” 

“Aw, why?” Kuroba took the rose from Shinichi’s fingers. He looked hurt, or feigned it well to be.

“I’m not going to walk around carrying a rose.”

Kuroba stroked his chin and glanced at the ceiling. “To be honest, the image looked quite cute in my head.”

Shinichi rolled his eyes and walked out of the waiting room. He didn’t intend to slow down even though he heard Kuroba asking him to _“Hold on!”_ while he scrambled to pack his remaining props. But that feeling quickly changed when Shinichi reached the lift, and he realised Kuroba was nowhere in sight behind him.

After two lifts had passed their floor, Shinichi decided he had enough of waiting and backtracked to the room to see what Kuroba was up to and taking so long—

Round the corridor, Shinichi found Kuroba talking to a woman in a wheelchair. 

He stopped, hiding behind the wall.

“Thank you Kaito-kun,” the woman said, her eyes held more gratefulness than what her soft voice had already expressed. 

Kuroba shook his head. “This isn’t anything much.”

“But not for Kanna and I.” The woman turned, looking at a little girl sitting on a sofa and playing with a dog balloon that Kuroba gave earlier. “My illness has brought nothing but gloomy years for her, but you’ve gave her plenty of sunshine.”

"It's the least I can do." 

They fell into a mutual silence for a while, but it wasn't long before the woman spoke, "Just the other day, Kanna also said she missed Aoko-chan."

Shinichi straightened.

_Aoko?_

As though she'd just realized what slipped out of her mouth, the woman suddenly looked regretful and guilty. She bit her lower lip. "I'm sorry—"

Kuroba smiled, his eyes half-lidded with patience and something that almost seemed…

Sad. 

He turned to look at the little girl, his face now blocked from Shinichi’s view.

“It's okay," he said, "It's good to know I'm not the only one too.”

* * *

After feeling he’d intruded the conversation enough, Shinichi left for the lift, got out of the hospital, and walked onto the streets. He had no idea how far he’d gone or where he was actually walking to, but it was definitely not anywhere near his parked car. 

Shinichi glanced at his watch with a sigh. His plans for the day had stopped right after finding Kuroba, and now he had no idea what to do for the rest of his evening—

A sound of a flap or two later, Shinichi found a white dove sitting on his right shoulder.

He nearly shrieked.

Nearly.

Shinichi spun around, not-so-surprised to find Kuroba jogging towards him. 

“Good job Tamago!” Kuroba gave a thumbs up. “You have located Cinderella.”

If Shinichi hadn’t known better, he would have been fooled by Kuroba's facade and thought the entire conversation and that look he’d witnessed earlier on his face was all an illusion.

Just like Kaitou Kid.

“For your information, this is my favourite shirt.” Shinichi glowered and curled his fingers, threatening to flick Tamago away. “And if your dove shits on me…”

“Alright, alright. You have no chill.” Kuroba shook his head and waved Tamago over, but a long moment had passed and Tamago still refused to move, until Kuroba had to call and snap his fingers for the fifth time then it did. It slipped back into Kuroba’s sleeve.

Shinichi peered over his shoulder.

“It’s clean,” Kuroba said.

Shinichi returned Kuroba his signature side-eye look.

Kuroba chuckled. “Anyway, since you don’t want my rose, how about a treat? You came all the way for my performance after all.”

“Did you get paid for the performance?”

There was a brief distant look that flashed across Kuroba’s face, and Shinichi tried to investigate the shift, like reaching out for a balloon that slipped away. But it was too late, and it had already flew away.

Gone.

“No.” Kuroba cocked his head to his side. “It’s voluntary work.”

Shinichi had long figured that out, but since he felt it was appropriate to ask, he thought it’d be nice know his guess was right 

“Then you don’t need to,” Shinichi said and turned, prepared to head to… who-knows-where. He should probably get back to his car—

“You know…” Kuroba sighed as he rubbed a hand behind his neck. “You’re making it hard for me to ask you out for dinner.”

Shinichi blinked, his head turning back in a robotic fashion. “...What?”

“You heard me well.” Kuroba crossed his arms. “So do you want to have dinner or not?”

“Uh.” Shinichi paused, feeling the hot, tingling pricks rising from his back and to his neck.

“I know a good Ramen restaurant around here.” Kuroba wiggled his eyebrows and jabbed a thumb across the street. “They sell the best dumplings too.”

It could be because he hadn’t had ramen for a long time, or that he'd missed eating good dumplings, but Shinichi wasn’t sure if he could entirely factor Kuroba’s grin _out_ as the reason why he decided to say_ “Ok” _to the dinner plan in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! Reviews are appreciated!


	13. Chapter 13

Kuroba didn’t lie; the Ramen was indeed splendid and the dumpling didn’t disappoint. And he didn’t lie when he said he _knew_ the Ramen restaurant too, so well that the owner came over specifically to greet Kuroba when they entered and offered both of them an extra serving of char siew on the house. 

Shinichi wasn’t sure, but for the first time he had a feeling this special treatment had nothing to do with Kuroba’s charm. The interactions between Kuroba and the employees during the whole dinner felt real, and rather than being in a restaurant, Shinichi thought he was eating in a private home instead. 

But Shinichi wasn’t complaining. He liked the liveliness, which was similar to what he'd missed experiencing in Cafe Poirot when he was Edogawa Conan. Only this time he was in his true self, and also because he was with—

He had no idea where that last thought came from, and he refused to finish it.

After the dinner and a long chatty goodbye, they both exited the restaurant, the next idea of destination unknown to Shinichi. Kuroba then asked if Shinichi drove, which he did, and that answer seemed to give Kuroba a new idea for the night as he began leading Shinichi somewhere else besides home. 

They stopped outside a shop that sold gardening supplies.

Shinichi glanced at Kuroba’s back as they entered the store. “Why are we here?”

“To save your plants, duh.”

Shinichi frowned. “I—”

“Hello Kaito-kun!” The store owner greeted as she stood up from her chair behind the counter. “The usual?”

“Not today,” Kuroba said, before jabbing a thumb at Shinichi. “Somebody is trying to murder his plants and I’m not going to sit back and watch. Do you have any big pots for repotting Sweet Potato Vine?”

Shinichi glowered, not sure to be annoyed at Kuroba’s unnecessary remark or impressed at his abundance knowledge for plants. But Kuroba didn’t seem to care, or notice, as he disappeared to the other section of the store with the owner, their chatters grew to murmurs that Shinichi couldn’t hear. When Shinichi tried to follow through the aisle, Kuroba was already back with two pots under both of his arms.

Kuroba set them on the cashier counter before gesturing Shinichi forward. “You’re paying for these.” He grinned.

Shinichi grudgingly pulled out his wallet, though he returned a smile when he faced the owner to pay for the items. At the last minute, Kuroba added a pruner tool and a small spade during the checkout.

They carried a pot each on their way out.

“I have a question,” Shinichi said as they were_ finally _heading to his car for home.

Kuroba glanced over. “Hm?”

“Did you previously live around here?” Shinichi asked. An explanation for his guess wasn’t necessary, but Kuroba’s lack of reply tempted Shinichi to fill in the silence between them. “The Ramen place, the gardening store... They’re not close to our district, but you seemed like a regular customer to them.”

“Yeah.” Kuroba eventually nodded. “I used to.”

“Why did you move?”

On the cue, a loud _“Bong” _echoed through the streets.

Shinichi halted in his steps.

_“Bong.”_

He turned

_“Bong.”_

_Is that the clocktower? _

Most of the tower was blocked by the surrounding buildings, but the tip and the face of the clock could still be seen against the dark sky. The structure was nothing in comparison to the Big Ben in London, but the clock lights did help to close the gap and make it looked just as majestic and iconic.

Just like the first time he’d seen it up close in the helicopter ride.

Being in the helicopter, Shinichi wasn't aware of the directions and didn’t know the clock tower was actually around this area—which was also the place Kuroba used to live, as mentioned. But now that he did, he wondered if it was a coincidence, or if there was any relation to why Kuroba—Kaitou Kid—decided to not only steal, but save it.

Shinichi turned back.

Though Kuroba had also stopped beside him, he was still looking forward.

And his face seemed too blank for Shinichi’s liking.

But in a blink, some life returned to his eyes, and he turned towards Shinichi.

“Tabula Rasa,” he said, breaking the odd silence and the lingering echoes from the clock tower’s chime.

“…Tabula Rasa?”

“It means a blank slate. Like a moment after a new birth," Kuroba said as he began walking again. Shinichi quickly followed.

There was something heavy at the end of Kuroba's sentence, like it wasn't completed... 

“And?” Shinichi prompted, trying to test his luck.

“And that’s my answer," was all Kuroba replied.

* * *

By the time they reached Shinichi’s parked car and drove back home (with the two pots sitting in the back seat), Kuroba had returned to his… normal self. But it wasn’t entirely normal when the first few minutes of the ride was silent, though eventually it was Kuroba that first broke it by commenting about some insignificant things before he started talking about what he was going to do with Shinichi’s plants; and for once Shinichi couldn’t be more grateful for the two pots and tools he was forced to buy, just so they had a safe, neutral and stable topic for the rest of the ride.

“And also, you shouldn’t water it too much either,” Kuroba continued as they got off the car, brought the pots into Shinichi’s house and to the backyard. “It’s like spoiling a kid. It’d grow up bad.”

“Nice analogy,” Shinichi said, placing the new pot beside the old one.

“Huh,” Kuroba looked amused. “Never knew you’d appreciate anything coming from me.”

Shinichi thought there wasn’t a need to correct Kuroba about that. Instead, he focused all his energy on transferring the two potted plants with Kuroba’s guidance, which was also a good distraction that helped him temporarily forget about Ran’s return, the hospital conversation, and all the burning questions Shinichi wished he had answers to, but not at the expense of having to see the sadness in Kuroba’s face…

“Doooone!” 

Shinichi glanced up, watching as Kuroba wiped his forehead with his sleeves. He didn’t need to be a scientist to know that human doesn’t glow, no matter the circumstances, but strangely, under the dark night sky with little light around them, Kuroba seemed to be—

“Hm, thanks.” Shinichi eyed down at the plants in front of him.

“No probs.”

Then, Kuroba continued to share more tips about the plants, something along the line about how to protect the plant during harsh sunlight, but Shinichi couldn’t really hear his words or voice anymore, not when the only thing that echoed in his ears were his slightly loud and erratic heartbeats, thumping faster and faster as he wondered about the cause of it. 

* * *

“Kudo!”

Shinichi turned, instantly noticing the dark-skinned man among the crowd of people loitering at their agreed meeting venue. He closed the distance by jogging over to Hattori as well. 

“Sorry for being late, there was a last minute meeting.” 

“Nah, I just reached too,” Hattori said before slapping a hand over Shinichi’s back. “Boy, it’s been so long!"

_Long_, according to Hattori’s dictionary, was akin to several years, even though it was technically only several months since they last met. But Shinichi wasn’t going to say otherwise, given that the meeting was indeed rather short, and it was for work purpose too; he’d gone to Osaka to solve a missing case that involved a resident from Tokyo. 

Shinichi smiled and glanced at his watch. “It’s an odd timing, but do you want to eat? I know a place that sells good Ramen and dumplings.”

“It’s really an odd timing for something so full,” Hattori said as he rubbed a hand sheepishly behind his back, “and I already promised I’m going to bring Kazuha to try the curry rice later for dinner.”

“Oh, Toyama is here in Tokyo too?”

“Yeah,” Hattori pursed his lips, looking somehow reluctant to explain the reason why. And he didn’t. 

Then again, it really wasn’t hard for Shinichi to figure out himself.

_Ran._

“How about giving me a tour around your new place?” Hattori grinned, slicing away the mild tension as he wrapped an arm around Shinichi’s shoulders. “You didn’t have a house-warming party, so now’s the chance.”

Shinichi hesitated, but it wasn’t because he wanted to hide his pathetic kitchen, messy study room or the sad little backyard with just two (albeit healthier-looking) potted plants. Instead, what flashed across his mind was Kuroba, his pesky doves, and his beautiful rose garden.

That was how it was to live beside an infamous and wanted thief, perhaps. 

“Well…” 

“C’mon, I already had enough of Tokyo's sight-seeing,” Hattori grumbled. “Just entertain me, would ya.”

“Fine, but—”

Before Shinichi could say another word, Hattori was already dragging him towards the direction of his car.

* * *

The first thing Shinichi checked when he got out of his car was Kuroba’s house (which was actually like all the other times, even without having Hattori or anyone around). But the sun hadn’t set and it was hard to tell if Kuroba was at home with no lights being on, so Shinichi had to check his mailbox. The lack of the dove’s presence and shit-stain didn’t help to confirm Shinichi’s guess either.

“Damn, it looks just as big as your old one.” Hattori gaped before skipping towards the front door.

Pushing his worries away at the moment, Shinichi followed.

The _things _in Shinichi’s house were pretty much self-explanatory, and joining with his lack of commentary talent, the "house-tour" was summed up in less than five minute. But Hattori still seemed pretty impressed, like usual.

“Nice place. Highly recommended. Will definitely visit again.” Hattori gave a thumbs up.

Shinichi shook his head. “You sure you don’t want to go somewhere else?” he suggested.

“Nah, oh wait. I haven’t seen your backyard.”

“Uh—”

Before Shinichi could even blink, Hattori had already teleported himself out in the backyard.

“Wow, you have plants,” he said aloud.

Sighing, Shinichi followed as he passed through the kitchen. “They are—”

Hattori suddenly turned, looking over at Kuroba’s backyard. “Eh, your neighbour’s there too.”

Shinichi froze.

“Hello!” Hattori waved.

_Oh God._

Shinichi stepped into his backyard and awkwardly turned to look over at Kuroba’s side.

Kuroba was waving back at Hattori with a watering can in his hand, and after putting it down by his rose plantations, he ambled over to the fence.

Shinichi pinched the bridge of his nose. And he’d thought Kuroba would be smart enough and go back into his house… He must have given him too much credit and overestimated how his two remaining brain cells would handle the situation.

“Nice to meet ya.” Hattori placed a hand over his chest. “I’m Kudo's best friend and greatest rival.” 

“And his name is also Hattori Heiji,” Shinichi added. Not that Kuroba needed the information, but for the sake of formality… He gestured over to Kuroba. “And he’s my neighbour, Kuroba Kaito,” he said to Hattori.

Kuroba propped an arm over the fence. “Is it safe for me to say that I’m your best neighbour too?”

Shinichi sighed. “Ok, anyway—”

“Wait a minute.” Hattori frowned, his eyes suddenly turned all squinty as he surveyed Kuroba. “Why does it look so familiar…”

Kuroba blinked.

Shinichi was pretty sure his heart had stopped for a good two-seconds at least. “What?” he said, and it was already a miracle he didn’t stutter for saying that one word. 

Hattori scratched his chin. “I’ve seen it before…”

“What are you talking about—”

“That shirt, ya.” Hattori pointed at Kuroba, “I’ve seen you worn it before.”

With how synchronised they were—both glancing down at the shirt, at each other, and then at Hattori at the same time—Shinichi and Kuroba could have won an award at the Olympics. 

And not just them, Hattori should be awarded as the-most-observant-man in history too; it was indeed Shinichi’s shirt, the one he let Kaitou Kid wear on the night he ended up in his garden with a knife stuck in his waist.

“Uh.” Shinichi cleared his throat. “Yes, what a coincidence—that my neighbour has the same shirt as me.”

Kuroba had probably worked his two brain cells and figured it was better to not say anything, so he only added a laugh for effect. 

Hattori raised an eyebrow. “Right—”

“Anyway, there’s nothing in my backyard besides the two plants, so let’s head back in,” Shinichi said, dragging Hattori towards the backyard door without sparing a glance towards Kuroba. Luckily, the feisty detective complied without any argument.

But getting into the kitchen wasn’t enough. After closing the door to the backyard, he pushed Hattori into the living room too.

“Where are you eating dinner with Toyama?” Shinichi asked, hoping to deflect any sort of conversation related to what happened fifteen seconds ago. “We can maybe hang out around there—”

“No, no.” Hattori waved a hand, his face turned slightly panicked all of the sudden. 

Shinichi raised an eyebrow. It seemed like it wasn’t just him that was trying to do some form of distracting.

Hattori sighed. He rubbed a hand behind his neck. “Kazuha… She’s with Ran-neechan now.”

_Oh._

“You do know that she’s back, right?” Hattori added.

Shinichi rubbed an eye. He was thankful, at least, that the aches in his chest had dulled so much to just a fluttering beat when he heard or thought of Ran these days. “Yeah, I know.”

Hattori frowned. “Why do I have this feeling that you know, but not at da’ same time?”

“I knew it through Shiho.” Shinichi explained, “But… I haven’t met Ran personally yet.”

“_Yet_.” Hattori leaned forward, looking as pumped as receiving a murder case. “Does that mean you are going to find her?”

Shinichi shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

Hattori’s face fell. “Well, I hope you do.”

Shinichi was tempted to give a nod just to assure Hattori, but he didn’t want to make any unconfirmed promises to anyone anymore. And worse, he feared Hattori would hold onto this thought and accidentally tell Toyama about it. And then Ran would know.

And if that happened, what should he do from there?

A buzz suddenly came from Hattori’s pants, saving Shinichi from having to continue his mind-mapping and figure what to reply. 

After silently reading off the message from his screen, Hattori pocketed his phone. “I guess I should go now.”

Shinichi nodded. “Let me send you.”

“Nah, I saw a train station when we passed. I can walk.” Hattori patted Shinichi on the shoulder. “Besides, Tokyo isn’t that big, ya know. You should at least prepare your script before stepping out of your house every time.”

Shinichi gave a wry laugh.

But out of courtesy, Shinichi still walked Hattori out of his door and a little further down the street before heading back into his house.

Or not really.

Standing right next to his mailbox was Kuroba, with his chin on the palm of his hand as he watched Shinichi walking closer home.

“You haven’t answered my question,” he said out randomly.

Shinichi frowned. “I don’t remember any question.”

“So, is it safe for me to say that I’m your best neighbour too?”

It was absurd that he didn’t see it coming. Shinichi rolled his eyes. “What do you think?”

Kuroba grinned. “Yes?”

Shinichi didn’t answer. He spun on his heels and went for his front door, but just for the feeling of it, he peeped back over his shoulder at the last moment, to find Kuroba still standing at the same exact spot and looking at him too.

“…What?” Shinichi muttered when they made eye contact.

“Nothing,” Kuroba said, before dusting his hands and heading for his own house.

Shinichi bit his lip. He backtracked, and took a few steps towards Kuroba. “Wait.”

Kuroba stopped. 

“Uh.” Shinichi unconsciously glanced at his mailbox. 

Kuroba followed his gaze. “My doves didn’t shit on it this time.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

Kuroba then tilted his head, promoting Shinichi to fill in the answer rather than supplying any more. Or maybe because he couldn’t think of any other reason to explain why Shinichi asked him to wait too.

And truth to be told, Shinichi couldn’t find any other reason either—

“When are you planning to return my shirt?” Shinichi came up with this idea instead.

Kuroba looked down and pulled the hem of the clothes, contemplating. “Do you want me to take if off now?” 

“Don’t,” Shinichi spat, which caused a grin to form on Kuroba’s face. Shinichi scowled in return. “Just give it back to me next time.”

“Ok. Is there anything else?

“No. I guess not.” Shinichi took a step back, and then another. “Bye.”

“Bye.” 

“…Wait.”

Kuroba turned and flung his hands up in exasperation. “What now?”

Shinichi dug both hands into his pocket, balling them into fists. “Do you… I mean, are you free?”

“Why?”

“By any chance… Are you cooking later? Like fried rice?” Shinichi blurted, almost pathetically. “Can I pay you to cook an extra plate for me?”

Kuroba blinked, his brief annoyance gone like the wind. “I can do it for free,” he said, his whole face all smiley and bright. “But in exchange, you have to answer my question: is it safe to say that I’m your best—”

Shinichi sighed. “Yes, yes you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading! reviews are appreciated!
> 
> FANART DONE BY HYKURAA ON TUMBLR!!! PLease send some LOVE!!
> 
> https://hykuraa.tumblr.com/post/188964247578/have-i-mentioned-how-great-tabula-rasa-is-by


	14. Chapter 14

Shinichi couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he’d noticed Kuroba’s house had changed since the last time he’d been here.

It could be because of the different circumstances—having your mail stolen and then finding your neighbour on the floor was definitely not a good experience, in comparison to sitting on a comfortable sofa while looking forward to a delicious dinner—but there was something else that was different too.

Shinichi stared at the coffee table in front of him. He definitely didn’t remember it being there when he slept on the same floor beside the sofa, and his memory had no recollection of the flower vase sitting on the television stand too; Kuroba’s house wasn’t as vast and spacious as before, but it wasn’t a bad thing either.

Frankly, his house felt more homely, and permanent.

Unlike some kind of temporary pit stop.

Besides the little, extra furniture that appeared around Kuroba’s home, Shinichi noticed the increase in numbers of doves too. Previously he’d witnessed three that roamed free, but now the number had doubled to six. Two were sitting on an empty wall shelf below the clock, three were spread out and perched on the wide television set, and the last one was on the back of the sofa Shinichi was sitting at. And honestly, that dove was the most threatening one to him since he wasn’t sure when it would suddenly fly and sit on his head.

He decided to save himself from worrying and leave his spot for the kitchen instead.

“Nice timing.” Kuroba glanced at Shinichi over his shoulder before pointing at the counter on the other side of the kitchen. “Can you pass me that bowl of soy sauce over there?”

Shinichi did. The heavenly smell intensified when Kuroba poured the sauce over the rice evenly, and it took Shinichi loads of effort to hold that embarrassing gulp of hunger as he stood dumbly by Kuroba’s side. He soon figured staring at Kuroba’s cooking wasn’t going to help curb his in-coming drools, so he glanced up at the window in front of them, which was coincidentally the perfect view of Kuroba's backyard.

There were three rows of perfectly trimmed rose bushes, and the colour of each rose looked way prettier and brighter than most of the flower shops Shinichi passed on the streets.

Kaitou Kid’s talents never failed to amaze Shinichi sometimes, but Kuroba Kaito wasn’t lacking in that either.

“Are all the roses cultivated for your performances?” Shinichi couldn’t help but ask.

The grin that spread across Kuroba’s cheeks told Shinichi the next thing he was going to say would be probably be stup— “And to offer them to my audiences too, provided they don’t reject them,” Kuroba said.

Shinichi rolled his eyes, and in that brief turn of head, he noticed there was a small, lone bush at the far corner of the backyard, one he didn’t realise existed until now. He squinted his eyes, trying to see what it was.

They were blue roses.

“How on earth…” Shinichi muttered.

Kuroba glanced up and followed Shinichi’s gaze, but he didn’t respond.

“Even though I’m not a fan of plants or flowers, I do know that blue roses can’t be grown naturally,” Shinichi pointed out.

“You’re definitely a genius; those blue roses aren’t grown naturally,” Kuroba said (and Shinichi also detected an underlying, mocking tone somewhere in his voice). “I made them through genetic modification by using normal rose seeds and blue forget-me-nots.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Kuroba echoed as he switched off the fire.

“That’s some really tedious work. I supposed they aren’t for your normal performances?” Shinichi elaborated as he took the two stacked plates that were on his side and handed them to Kuroba, who accepted them wordlessly. “Is it for Kaitou Kid’s use?”

“No, they’re not.”

If it wasn’t for Kid’s purposes… Shinichi supposed the conversation should probably end here—

“It’s a gift for someone,” Kuroba said.

Shinichi couldn’t help but gape at the side of Kuroba’s face as he nonchalantly scooped the rice onto the plates.

Kuroba’s glass wall was still as high and unbreakable, but for the first time, the game of flickering lights wasn’t played according to Kuroba’s bidding anymore. Instead, what Shinichi found in his hand on the opposite side of the glass was a switch.

Kuroba had given him that switch.

But Shinichi had no idea what to do with it.

Shinichi could foresee a dozen of possible conversation routes in his mind, but there was one thing he wanted more right now than seeing another of Kuroba’s vulnerable moment or getting answers to satisfy his never-ending curiosity about Kaitou Kid.

He just wanted some good fried rice.

“I see,” was all Shinichi said before he made his move and began wandering around, pulling drawers to find and set the utensils on the small dining table for two, which was in-between the kitchen and living room (speaking of which, Shinichi wasn’t sure if he remembered seeing the dining table the last time he was here too.)

Kuroba said nothing else either as he brought the plates out.

Sitting opposite of each other, they said their thanks for the food and dug in.

Just a few mouthfuls later, a dove from the television set flew and settled on Kuroba’s shoulder. It leaned towards the spoonful of rice that Kuroba was going to eat.

“No, Hiro. This isn’t for you.” Kuroba swatted it away. “Let me eat in peace.”

It pecked Kuroba’s hand.

“So...” Shinichi watched in amusement as Kuroba continued his little battle with the dove. “Is this one of the few doves you said you let out because they are obedient?”

Kuroba gave him a side-eye. “Yeah.”

Shinichi figured there was no point in expressing the very irony that was happening right now. “Did more grow obedient then?” He gestured towards the other five doves in the living room. “I see you let more of your doves out.”

“I didn’t let more out; they are the same entitled few: Hiro, Yoshi, Tamago”—Shinichi cringed at the mention—“Ryo, Sake and Wasabi,” Kuroba said, pointing at each dove briefly as he checked their names off one by one. “There’s two more, Touma and Curry, but I think they are in the garden,” he added.

Shinichi suddenly remembered their previous and almost random conversation that was brought up in a similar fashion when they were eating fried rice, but it happened in Shinichi’s house instead. “So you weren’t kidding when you said you named half of your doves as food?”

Kuroba looked offended. “I never joke about my doves.”

Shinichi barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes as he turned to glance at the doves once more, especially the one still sitting on the back of the couch. He didn’t quite catch it, but he believed that was the direction Kuroba was pointing at when he mentioned Tamago’s name—

“I guess more of them appeared in your presence because they are growing to trust you,” Kuroba suddenly said.

Shinichi shifted in his seat, unsure of what to say. “I see.”

Kuroba chuckled.

Only satisfied after Kuroba gave in and fed it a few grains of rice, Hiro finally flew back to the living room.

“Anyway, did you have a house-warming party I didn’t know of?” Kuroba asked.

Shinchi twiddled with his spoon. “There’s no house-warming party.”

Kuroba raised an eyebrow. “But Hattori Heiji was having a tour around your backyard.”

“It was for a distraction,” Shinichi said, just a second too late to realise he shouldn’t have admitted that. But there was no way to retract his statement, and with Kuroba’s curious eyes staring right at him, it was hard for him to not continue, “Hattori was... trying to distract me.”

“From?”

Shinichi had talked to Kuroba enough to pick up a skill or two at deflecting conversations, but he found himself hesitating for reasons that were not clear in his head.

“Do you remember what you said about Tabula Rasa?” Shinichi said instead.

Kuroba’s expressionless look and silence seemed to be his answer.

“I supposed it’s similar to the reason why I moved here too,” Shinichi continued, “I wanted to start anew and move on from the entire Edogawa Conan thing.”

Kuroba looked at Shinichi for a long while before lowering to gaze at his food.

“You know...” Kuroba began, “there’s a difference between hiding and starting anew.”

Shinichi blinked.

Kuroba’s eyes were still on the plate, but Shinichi could tell there was a distant look in his eyes. “You should go and find her.”

_How did he... _“What?”

“You can never start anew when something is still holding you back.” Kuroba glanced up. “The mere fact that you’re running away from the media already says as much.”

Shinichi parted his lips, but his tongue turned tied at the challenging look in Kuroba’s eyes.

Everything grew quiet still between them.

Then, somewhere in the living room, a dove cooed.

“You should really go and find her,” Kuroba said again.

Before the silence started to sink in, a sudden shrill of alarm echoed throughout the house, startling Shinichi out of his plan to rebuke whatever Kuroba had said.

(Though it wasn’t as if Shinichi found any point anyway.)

Kuroba pulled out the phone from his pocket and switched off the alarm. Every line of tension in his face was already gone, as if those moments were just a collective hallucination Shinichi had.

“Alright, time for me to go.” Kuroba stood up and carried his plate to the kitchen sink. On the way, he made a unique whistling tune, and the six doves in the living room immediately got into action and flew up to the second floor.

Shinichi didn’t want to admit this, but he was genuinely confused and... a little curious. Finishing his last few mouthfuls, Shinichi picked up his empty plate and headed to the kitchen too.

“Where are you going?” he asked when Kuroba took the plate from him to wash.

Kuroba turned and stared at him. And when Shinichi still didn’t say anything, he laughed. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

Shinichi frowned. “What?”

“I have a heist later.”

It took a couple of seconds before Shinichi registered Kuroba’s words. “You have a heist _today_?”

Kuroba exaggerated a sigh and showed a small pout. “I’m really hurt, _Tantei-kun_," Kuroba, or rather, Kaitou Kid said.

He had been so caught up in today’s moment that he’d completely forgotten. “I honestly don’t remember,” Shinichi said, and he was relieved his brain wasn’t fried enough to add an apology behind. “But if you have a heist, why did you even agree to my request?”

“In exchange of being acknowledged as your best neighbour, I find it a worthy deal.”

_...What the hell?_

“By the way, you’re invited to my heist,” Kuroba said as he placed the clean plates and pan on the drying rack.

Shinichi narrowed his eyes. “It’s not your call.”

“The place is an open public space. Nobody has the call.”

“Fine. Don’t regret what you said,” Shinichi warned.

Kuroba grinned before making some stupid, wooing sounds. “Should I be feeling threatened?”

“If that will keep your guard up, I suggest you should be.” Shinichi gave Kuroba’s kitchen a last glance. “I’ll thank you for the food, Kuroba. But when you’re in that white suit, I won’t recognise him as you.”

“I’d like that.” Shinichi heard Kuroba say before he headed for the door.

* * *

Dealing with Kid was complicated enough, let alone the feisty crowd in the large garden that the thief held his heist at, or rather the millionaire, who decided to show-off his gem by placing it on the heart of the statue fountain he publicly donated.

Shinichi had no idea how many times he was pushed and stepped on, but after witnessing Kaitou Kid’s cheeky smile as he stolen the gem and disappeared in just three seconds, it fuelled Shinichi enough to rack his brain in a speed he hadn’t done in a long while, and he figured the only direction that Kid could go to use the wings he had.

After getting pushed and stepped even more, Shinichi found his way up the small hill behind the garden. There were some police officers that were dispatched towards the hill too, but after a short while when their radio cackled to life and someone claimed he saw Kid flew away in another direction, they followed the order to return back to the garden.

Shinichi continued his own way.

The distance between the lamp posts grew bigger and bigger as Shinichi went further up the hill, but by the time he neared the top, the dark trees around him were slightly illuminated by the citylights below.

And the large moon.

And the bold and semi-glowing whiteness that Kaitou Kid’s costume showed.

In his gloved hand that was raised high under the moon was the stolen gem.

Shinichi stopped, crossing his arms as he stared at Kid’s back. “Is that what you’re looking for?”

The dark shadows under his hat covered most of Kid’s face, but Shinichi noted the tension in his shoulders. Only after a long while, Kid finally placed his arm down. He tossed the gem in the air and caught it with his other gloved hand. Then with a wave, it was gone from both.

Kid turned, finally acknowledging Shinichi’s presence and words. “What makes you think I’m looking for anything?” he said.

Shinichi looked unimpressed. “Am I wrong?”

“You sound very scary, _Tantei-kun._” Kid pushed the brim of his hat up, revealing the gleam in his monocle. “Besides, I would never _dare_ to say you’re wrong.”

As much as he wished to separate Kuroba and Kaitou Kid apart, their uncanny way to divert the conversation was just too similar.

Shinichi pointed a finger-gun at Kid. “Are you going to surrender now or what.”

There was an odd silence before Kaitou Kid suddenly burst out laughing. “Please don’t do that,” he said, but the charismatic tone that Kid always used wasn’t there. It was Kuroba speaking.

Shinichi frowned. “What?”

Kuroba pointed a finger-gun back. “You look stupid.”

A vein popped in Shinichi’s temple as he balled the same hand into a fist. “Do you want me to kill you?”

“Sorry.” Kuroba heaved a breath to calm himself. “But anyway, thanks for the fun night, despite the shortness of it.”

“There is nothing fun.” Shinichi narrowed his eyes. “And what about the jewel?”

“In safe hands.”

“Do you mean _your_ hands—”

A sound of fluttering wings interrupted Shinichi, and he looked up, finding a dove right above him. But before he could complain about the few feathers that littered his head, the dove _poofed_ into the gem, and it fell at the rate gravity allowed.

Shinichi caught it.

He glanced up.

Kaitou Kid was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews are much loved


	15. Chapter 15

_“You can never start anew when something is still holding you back. The mere fact that you’re running away from the media already says as much.”_

_..._

_“You should really go and find her.”_

Shinichi pricked the skin under his thumb, glancing at the door to _Mouri’s Detective Agency_ for the hundredth time in that fifteen minutes he’d spent standing in the middle of the stairs.

Most instances when Shinichi ever come to take a quick look and wonder how Mouri was doing, he always watched from a distance, or at best, from the front of Cafe Poirot. But today—after more than three years had passed since he returned back to his body—was the closest he had even been to the place he once called home.

_“You should really go and find her.”_

Swallowing, Shinichi took another step up the stairs.

_“You should really go and find her.”_

And another.

_“You should really go and find her.”_

Closing his eyes and taking one last breath, Shinichi reached out for the door handle and opened.

There was a ring Shinichi didn’t recognise above him, and on the cue, the sound of footsteps started pattering out from the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry, Mouri Kogoro isn’t—”

Shinichi turned, the last echo of the bell died away once the door closed behind him.

And then there was silence.

_“You should really g—”_

“Hi, Ran.” Shinichi raised a hand awkwardly. “I’m Kudo Shinichi.”

Ran’s quiet stare changed to a chortle, and even after so long, Shinichi was relieved to know he could still recognise if her laugh was a real one; and it was.

“Hi, Kudo Shinichi,” Ran said after she regained back her composure. “Are you here to consult my dad about a case?”

“Um—”

“I’m kidding. Have a seat.” Ran gestured him to the couch (which Shinichi realised was new, too). “Tea?”

Holding back the loud sigh of relief, Shinichi nodded. “Thanks.”

* * *

Hattori had advised a script, but really, all Shinichi could think of to say when Ran returned with two cups of tea and sat on the couch opposite of him was:

“I am sorry.”

It wasn’t the first time Ran heard the same three words from him, but her current reaction was the first time for Shinichi.

Not horrified, no angry tears...

She was simply calm. Quiet, and calm.

Shinichi gulped.

“It’s been three years,” Ran began. “More than three years, actually.”

“Yeah, more than three years,” he echoed, not knowing what else to say,

Ran tilted her head. “Azusa-san is right. You’ve lost some weight.”

Shinichi blinked.

She lifted the cup of tea to her lips, taking a sip. “I have gained some weight though, while I was in college.”

Now Shinichi _really_ had no idea what to say.

Ran raised an eyebrow, and when Shinichi still didn’t say anything, she sighed.

“You’d told so many lies in the past, and now you can’t even say one to humour me about my weight?”

Shinichi winced. “Well...”

“Alright, I’m sorry. I should stop with the jabs.” Ran laughed behind the back of a hand. “But you should stop acting like a stiff cucumber too.”

_Stiff cucumber? _Shinichi squirmed in his seat. Now that he moved, he did feel a release of tension in his back. He tried relaxing his shoulders a little more, and while he did, Ran smiled.

“I do understand now; all those lies and things you'd done,” Ran suddenly said. “In the end, they were all to protect and keep me safe, even if they did hurt me temporarily.”

Shinichi gaped, being caught entirely off guard at Ran’s sudden flow of the conversation.

“It didn’t take me long to figure them out,” Ran continued, “In fact, I understood everything the moment you told me the truth, but I wanted to be angry, and refuse to forgive you just for the sake of it.”

Shinichi nodded in silence.

“I thought if I left for college—and never see you again—things would get better, but it didn’t.” Ran showed a bitter smile. “In fact, your neighbour has a point when he said how time—”

Shinichi straightened, and for the first time, he spoke, “My what?”

“Ah.” Ran bit on her lower lip. “I didn’t mention that I’d been to your new house, did I?”

“No.” Shinichi’s heart began to race. “When was that?”

“Around two weeks or so, after Ai— I mean, after Shiho-san told me your new address.” Ran looked away awkwardly as she brushed a fringe off her face. “Again, you weren’t at your new home at that time, but I saw your neighbour, and he was scrubbing your mailbox, for some reason.”

_How initiative._ Shinichi muttered drily in his head. But if the mentioned timeline of events was true... then the fried rice conversation Shinichi had in Kuroba’s house took place way after he knew about Ran.

_Then why didn’t he say anything?_

Ran scanned across Shinichi’s face. “In case you’re wondering, I told him not to tell you,” she explained.

Shinichi glanced up. “Oh.”

“The truth is, I was embarrassed,” Ran blabbered. “I wasn’t even sure if you knew I’ve returned. And... what if you’ve started anew? And that you don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore?”

“I would never think that.”

Ran smiled, but there was some guilt in her eyes. “But I did, before I left for college.”

“I...” Shinichi shrank back into his seat and shook his head. “Nobody can fault you for it.”

They exchanged a significant look, and a beat of silence passed before Ran broke it.

“Anyway, to make sure he wouldn’t tell, I gave your neighbour some context, saying we had a fight and I was angry at you for a while.” She sheepishly rubbed a hand over the side of her arm. “I hope it didn’t change his impression about you, or something.”

_He already knew more than that. _“No, it didn’t,” Shinichi assured.

“That’s good to hear.”

“You said he also has a point about something,” Shinichi prompted. “What is it?”

Ran twiddled her thumbs, a wave of nostalgia breezed past her features as her eyes slightly glistened.

“I once thought that distance makes the heart grow fonder, but I supposed that’s not the case anymore,” she mumbled. “And turns out, like what your neighbour said, time doesn’t heal all wounds either; it’s what we do, and the choice we make, that lessens or distracts the pain.”

_“It’s me,”_

Wide eyes, Shinichi lowered his gaze to his hands.

_“I stabbed myself.”_

“—Shinichi?”

“What? Sorry.” Shinichi straightened out of his trance.

Ran looked at him with concern. “Are you okay? You look... a little disturbed.”

“I’m fine.” Shinichi took a long sip of his tea, trying to buy some time to calm himself. He set the cup back on the table. “Is that all he said?”

Ran frowned and parted her lips, probably wanting to comment at length about Shinichi’s discomfort, but it seemed she changed her mind in the end, and instead, she turned, staring out of the window at the sound of a distant horn.

“He told me I should forgive you,” she said quietly. “That’s how I can lessen my pain.”

Shinichi stared, unblinking.

“And you.” Ran returned Shinichi a look. “Only if you know I forgive you, then it will lessen yours.”

“Ran...”

“I actually wanted to visit your house again in a few days’ time; Kazuha-chan encouraged me too.” Ran smiled. “But turns out you beat me to it.”

“I should be the one who finds you first,” Shinichi muttered. “I’m just... constantly running away.”

“But you’re here now; it’s more than enough to prove that you’re not running away anymore.”

Shinichi’s chest swelled.

Even when he didn’t want to find any excuses for himself, Ran did it for him.

Her kindness knew no bounds.

Shinichi lowered his head. “Do you really...”

“Yes, I’ve forgiven you, Shinichi.”

Shinichi bit his lip, enough to stop it from quivering. He took in a deep breath. “Thank you, Ran.”

They allowed the forgiving silence to sink in for a while, but soon, their conversation drifted away from their past but to the things they had missed out on each other’s lives. Frankly, the only _happening_ Shinichi had besides his job was Kuroba and Kaitou Kid, but there wasn't any leeway available for him to share about that, so instead, he listened to more of Ran's stories as she talked about her college life, like how she had met a couple of great friends, stressed out in some of the math modules, and even dated once, though it ended half a year later (and strangely, the thought that Ran had found someone new during their separation didn’t bother Shinichi as much as he thought, or as much as he should be, too).

“Are you currently finding a job?” Shinichi asked, taking a piece of cookie from the plate that Ran brought out in the midst of their light conversation.

“I’m going back to my college.”

Shinichi frowned. “Haven’t you graduated?”

“I’m not returning as a student.” Ran smirked. “I’m going for a trainee program to become a Karate Instructor. One of my college professors arranged it for me.”

“Wow, that’s really great; it’s something you’re interested in, isn’t it?” Shinichi smiled when Ran nodded cheerfully. “When will the program start?”

“Next week,” Ran said. “That’s why I’d thought of visiting you in a few days, at least before I go.”

“I see…”

The bell by the door suddenly chimed, and both of them turned as they watched a woman, probably in her mid-thirties, stomped into the agency in a hurry. She glanced around before acknowledging their presences on the couch.

“Is Mouri Kogoro in?”

Shinichi and Ran stood up, but it was Ran that spoke, “I’m sorry, he’s currently away and will be back later. Can I schedule a meeting for you?”

“Do you mind if I wait for him here till he returns?” The woman glanced at the time on her phone. “It’s something urgent.”

“If it’s something urgent, we have another detective here.” Ran gestured towards Shinichi. “I’m sure he can help.”

The woman looked at Shinichi up and down. “It’s fine. I would prefer to speak and trust Mouri Kogoro.”

Shinichi and Ran exchanged a brief look, and they had to stifle a smile before the woman caught on.

As Ran invited the client to take a seat, she picked up the empty cups and cookie plate from the table and headed to the kitchen. Shinichi temporarily followed.

“I should go,” Shinichi said. He rubbed a hand behind his neck. “Will we... stay in contact?”

Ran laughed. “Of course, mystery geek.”

Shinichi couldn’t help but smile at the nickname. He glanced back at the living room and at the empty chair by the window, the one Ran’s father used to twirl around in with a newspaper in his hands….

He’d never thought he’d ever see this sight, let alone the shadows of everything here anymore.

_“You can never start anew when something is still holding you back.”_

“Please help me send my regards to your dad,” Shinichi said.

Ran’s eyes softened in understanding. “Sure.” She nodded, before her face lit up. “Oh, and send my regards to your neighbour too.”

Given Kuroba’s disguised history, he would rather not. So without making any promise on it, Shinichi bade a last goodbye, and left the agency.

* * *

Earlier in the morning, before Shinichi decided to find Ran, his car actually broke down (and Shinichi briefly wondered if it was a sign from some kind of deity that he should postpone his meeting). But now, after he’d gotten the balls and all things were cleared, Shinichi thought sending his car for servicing might be the best idea that happened that day (besides seeking for Ran’s forgiveness, of course); having no car meant he was given the chance to take a rare walk, and walking meant he got to observe, and when he observed, he often found new and interesting things.

(And when one heart’s felt free, those things all seemed a little different now; in a good way of course.)

It was the little things at first, like how he noticed fresh layers of paint on some buildings, the weird cafe names that the owners came up with, the way couples synced their steps together so easily, and eventually how Beika street was actually not that far from the district Kuroba used to live.

By the time Shinichi realised, he was only a few stores away from the Ramen restaurant Kuroba recommended.

Shinichi checked his watch. It was a little early to have dinner, but really, his body should rather be pleased that Shinichi even considered having_ anything_ for dinner… He stepped into the slightly empty restaurant.

“Welcome— Oh! Shinichi-kun?” The owner waved Shinichi over to the empty seat in front of the counter.

Shinichi hooked his jacket on the wall rack behind him. “You remembered me?” 

The owner laughed. “It’s hard not to, especially when you’re Kaito-kun’s friend.”

_Friend? _Shinichi settled on his seat. Deciding to forget about the comment, he picked up and scanned across the menu. He remembered the different ramen broths Kuroba recommended, and he wondered if he should try them today…

“Why didn’t you and Kaito-kun come together?”

Shinichi glanced up from the menu. “We’re not together,” he blurted, scratching the side of his cheek when he realized his answer sounded a little weird. “I mean, I was alone and coincidentally nearby so I decided to drop by a visit. I don’t think Kuroba is around though.”

“He is!”

Shinichi paused. “He is?”

“Yeah.” The owner flipped the ramen in the air and plopped it skilfully back into noodle strainer. “He left shortly before you arrived. You two must have missed each other.”

_An even earlier dinner? _Shinichi stared outside the restaurant. He was sure Kuroba didn’t walk towards the direction he came from, so the only possible explanation was Kuroba had headed towards the other direction.

And that direction was…

“Does Kuroba come here often?” Shinichi asked the owner.

“He used to—”

“But there’s a period when Kaito-senpai stopped coming,” Chihaya—the owner’s daughter—said as she backtracked to Shinichi’s side after she delivered a bowl of ramen to the customer. She playfully plopped onto the empty seat next to Shinichi. “He returned only just recently, like maybe a couple of months before he brought you here.”

Shinichi nodded. “I see…”

“You must be someone special,” Chihaya said as she started wiggling her eyebrows. “Besides Aoko-chan, you’re the first person he ever brought along.”

Shinichi blinked.

The owner raised his cooking chopsticks threateningly. “Oh, shush, you.”

Chihaya pursed her lips and gave a quick glance around the restaurant. “It’s fine, Kaito-senpai isn’t here anyway,” she said and waved her father off, though Shinichi detected some relief in her voice.

Shinichi caressed the menu, feeling the tiny imprints under his skin. Besides how his experiences as Edogawa Conan were enough to put all actors’ resumes to shame, he had been in legitimate undercover situations during his period of inspector work; it would definitely take little to no effort to get Chihaya to explain all the things Shinichi wanted to know, like why it wouldn't be fine if Kuroba was here and had heard all the things she just said...

But he did none of those.

Instead, Shinichi slotted the menu back to its holder and looked over to the owner behind the counter. “I’ll have one signature, please. And some dumplings too,” he said.

The disapproval look towards his daughter was gone, and the owner gave a thumbs up. “Coming right up!”

Chihaya left to do her other duties too.

It was fine like this; Shinichi figured if he wanted to hear a story, it would be best coming from the original source.

* * *

_“Bong”_

_“Bong”_

_“Bong”_

Shinichi raised his head, staring at the tall and mighty clock tower before him. Unlike the previous time, the bell didn’t stop its chime, and neither did the light show, as rays of white lights continued to shine in the darkened sky for the next couple of minutes or so.

Tourists, and mostly locals, started crowding in front of the tower and whipping out their phone to record the magnificence rather than observe through their eyes. Shinichi scorned; he wasn't prejudiced against anyone in particular, but it was a little frustrating, and distracting, given that now it made things all the harder for Shinichi to find what he was really looking for.

Kuroba Kaito.

Rather than reasoning and evidences, this was one of the rare times Shinichi relied on intuitive sense and guessed this as the place Kuroba headed to instead of the direction towards home...

All of the sudden, Shinichi's stomach made a loud, churning noise, and he sighed, rubbing his stomach.

Because he wanted to prove his intuition right, yet didn’t want to suddenly run out of the restaurant without eating, Shinichi ate in the speed of light when his food arrived (maybe he shouldn’t have ordered the dumplings, but he couldn’t resist). Now his stomach felt a little funny. Bloated, maybe. And it didn't help to feel that everything was a wasted effort when there was not a single person, nor a shadow, that looked like Kuroba, and all the pigeons and birds that loitered around the parade looked and sounded nothing like Kuroba’s doves too.

Despite that, Shinichi still refused to think he was wrong.

But he needed to sit down though.

Shinichi turned and pressed a hand on his back, feeling as if he was some embarrassing pregnant lady. He began trudging around, searching for a place to sit while pushing past the people who were still gushing over the clock tower…

Then, everything soon fell away—the chimes’ echoes, sound of snapshots, even his fullness—leaving Shinichi only the sight of a lone bench, which was far away from everything yet close enough for Shinichi to also see what was on it.

It was a stalk of blue rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading! reviews are loved!


	16. Chapter 16

The distance between Beika Street and Kuroba’s old hometown was considerably near, but it wasn’t the case between the latter and their current residence. And the distance only amplified when Shinichi didn’t have his car and had to walk to take the public transport.

But despite how Shinichi had to change a couple of metro lines before he finally reached the station to get off, he didn’t find the journey very long. Perhaps it was because he was lucky enough to get a seat in every cabin he entered, or that he didn’t bother to check the time on his watch or phone…

Or maybe because his mind had been so preoccupied about the scene at the clock tower the entire way home.

Shinichi originally wanted to bring the blue rose for reasons he wasn’t sure. As an evidence? For safe-keeping? But in the end, he didn’t. He only stood in the same spot when he first saw the bench and stared at the rose for a long, long while before deciding to head home. The rose’s presence was already enough to prove his intuitive sense correct, and he found no rights for him to touch the rose, much less remove it from the place it was meant to be.

_“It’s a gift for someone.”_

Hands in his empty pockets, Shinichi walked out of the station and down the familiar streets. This was also the first time he noticed the large space and distance between each of the street's lamppost, making the residential area darker than the others. Nonetheless, it was again another observation he made when he wasn’t driving in his car, but for the first time, he wasn’t sure what to make do with this random information he had—

Ah... At least now he knew if any of Kuroba’s doves ever went missing, the best time to find it would be during the night; from a distance away, Shinichi could already spot a white dove sitting on his mail box.

“Hey you,” Shinichi called out as he approached.

The dove stared at him.

Shinichi looked over at Kuroba’s house. There were no lights on. “Where’s your owner?” he asked.

It cooed.

Shinichi sighed, not at anything but himself for his idiocy of trying to get an answer from a dove, _again_.

Deciding an alternative method of communicating, Shinichi unfastened the latch and tentatively took out his mail, and at the last moment, he waved it in front of the dove. But besides looking at Shinichi with its beady eyes, it showed no reaction.

“Since you didn’t steal my mail, I supposed he’s fine? ” Shinichi glanced at Kuroba’s house again. “Or maybe he hasn’t even reached home yet.”

The dove cooed.

“Thanks for the reply,” Shinichi mumbled as he began flipping through the mails. There were bills, bills, another postcard from his mother…

“Hey,” Shinichi said as he stuffed the rest of his uninteresting mails back into the mailbox and leaned a little closer to the dove. “Do you happen to know who this person named Aoko is?”

“…”

“It isn’t hard to know this person is important to Kuroba, but I also have a feeling that she’s…” Shinichi bit his lip, feeling the end of his throat tightened at the thought of the word. He lowered his gaze and stared at his hand—the hand he remembered Kuroba clung so tightly onto during that night he fell.

_“I’m so… so sorry.”_

Shinichi tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but that pain and tightness didn’t go away; it moved to his chest instead.

The dove cooed.

Shinichi glanced up. “Yes I’m alright—" He blinked, staring questionably at the dove for a few seconds. “Uh, were you asking me if I’m alright?”

It cooed again.

“I think I’m going crazy.” Shinichi rubbed a thumb between his brows. “Anyway, who exactly are you? Hiro? Curry? Or Tama—”

“It’s Tamago.”

With how fast he turned his head, Shinichi thought he might snap his neck.

“You—” Shinichi backed a few steps away from Kuroba and scowled. “Why did you creep up behind me like that?”

“I didn’t,” Kuroba said as he took a bite out of the chocolate bar in his hand. “Don’t pin the blame on me when you’re a scaredy-cat.”

“I’m not a—” Shinichi shook his head; he had much more important questions on hand than replying Kuroba’s insults. “Since when were you behind me? And how much have you heard?”

“Now I’m curious.” Kuroba tilted his head. “Should I have heard something?”

“No.”

“Huh.” Kuroba glanced between Shinichi and Tamago. “Did you two badmouth about me?”

“If that would satisfy you, then yes, we badmouthed you.”

Kuroba gasped and theatrically placed a hand over his chest. “I thought I’m your best neighbour,” he said, before looking at Tamago. “And I just fed you your favourite sunflower seeds less than half-an-hour ago. Is this how you repay me?”

_Half-an-hour ago?_ Shinichi glanced at the snack in Kuroba’s hand. “Where did you go?”

“I went to get myself some treats.” Kuroba raised his half-eaten chocolate bar before revealing his pocket full of other sweets. “You want one?”

“No.”

Shinichi figured if he continued to pry about how much Kuroba had heard, he would only be digging his own grave throughout the conversation. But it was hard to figure out the answer from Kuroba’s reaction, or rather, from the lack of it. Not to mention when Kuroba's side hobby _and _talent involved disguising as people on a casual basis too…

Kuroba raised an eyebrow after he finished stuffing his sweets back into his jeans. “Are you okay?”

Shinichi blinked. “Why did you ask?”

“You look constipated.”

“I’m not.”

“If you’re not constipated, then I guess it’s one of the three reasons that make you act like you’re constipated.” Kuroba lifted a finger. “One, you’re upset about the aftermath of a case; but I didn’t see any news about murders today, so I guess not.”

“I—"

“Two.” Kuroba gestured to the mailbox. “Tamago didn’t poop on it. So that’s out.”

“_Hasn't_ _pooped_ sounds better," Shinichi warned. "Since you fed it half an hour ago, it might happen anytime soon.”

Kuroba rolled his eyes, but his face grew serious again as he showed the third finger in the air. “Three.” Kuroba paused. “It is because of Mouri Ran?”

Shinichi stared back in silence.

“So it’s about her.” Kuroba lowered his hand. “Have you gone to find her?”

“Speaking of which.” Shinichi crossed his arms in defiance. “You didn’t tell me that she came.”

“Well, I couldn’t possibly break the promise I made with a fine lady like her.” Kuroba grinned as he took the last bite out of his remaining chocolate bar before crushing the wrapper in his hand. “So, since you know about this, it means you did find her.”

“Yeah.”

The scrunching sound in Kuroba’s hand stopped. He looked perfectly still— almost like a statue.

“Then,” Kuroba began, “did she forgive you?”

Shinichi nodded.

In an instance, Kuroba’s face split into a huge smile, and it was filled with so much relief and bliss that for a moment, Shinichi almost forgotten if it was he or Kuroba that was forgiven by Ran.

“That’s great!” Kuroba said.

Shinichi nodded again.

The excitement in Kuroba’s face died away as fast as it came. He furrowed his brows as he observed Shinichi. ”Shouldn’t you be feeling happy about it? What’s with your reaction?”

“What reaction?”

“Like this.” Kuroba then drooped his eyes and showed a pursed lips.

Shinichi frowned. “I don’t look like that.”

“You need a mirror.”

“No.”

“It’s not a question.” Kuroba whipped out one from his sleeve and showed it to Shinichi’s face. Indeed, Shinichi looked exactly like what Kuroba had mimicked, much to his annoyance.

“I’m fine.” Shinichi pushed the mirror away.

“Huh.” Kuroba scoffed before looking at Tamago, who had been sitting on the mailbox silently all these while. “Looks like somebody is moody.” Kuroba not-so-subtlety pointed at Shinichi.

But Shinichi wasn’t going to react or rebuke to Kuroba’s taunts; there was actually nothing else for him to say, because in truth (and how strange that Kuroba got it right), those three reasons _should _be the only three reasons that could ever make Shinichi upset, but there was a fourth one—one that Shinichi could never let it be known.

At least not to Kuroba.

Besides how time doesn’t heal all wounds, words can reopen them too.

So how could Shinichi possibly tell Kuroba that he knew everything—about his unconscious apology, the hospital conversation and the blue rose in front of the clock tower—and that he was also upset and frustrated at himself for the lack of his abilities to pull Kuroba out of his sad, sad misery?

He didn't want to be _that guy_ again.

“Um…” Kuroba leaned back and cast Shinichi a side-long glance. “Are you really pissed though?”

Shinichi rubbed a hand down his face, hoping to wipe whatever expression Kuroba was seeing to think of that thought. “I’m not.”

Kuroba nervously hummed, before pulling out a candy from his pocket and gave it to Shinichi. “Maybe this can help?”

Knowing it would do better to accept than reject, Shinichi wordlessly took Kuroba’s offer and popped the sweet into his mouth.

”Feeling better?” Kuroba asked.

Shinichi had to swallow the sweet, to stop a sudden lump that was threatening to rise in his throat again. He looked at Kuroba’s curious and unblinking gaze, and wondered why, even when his own life wasn’t exactly full of sunshine, Kuroba could still be concerned over Shinichi, and even foolishly offering a sweet so it would make him feel better.

More than that, Kuroba even talked to Ran.

And he encouraged Shinichi to talk to Ran too.

“Thanks, Kaito,” Shinichi said.

(And it wasn’t just for the sweets.)

It was as though the world stopped for a second, and then Kaito blinked. “Di-did you just call my name?”

Shinichi smirked; it felt like a privilege to hear Kaito stutter for once. “I did.”

Kaito fished out a handful of sweets from his pocket and laid them out in his open palm. “Are these poisoned? Or are they actually drugs?” he muttered.

“They are nothing but diabetes,” Shinichi said.

Kaito looked at him, askance. “You’re being really weird today. Did Mouri Ran hit your head or something?”

Shinichi ignored him and gestured to the sweets. “You shouldn’t eat these junks at night.” He turned to Tamago. “Try to control your owner if you can.”

Tamago cooed.

Kaito narrowed his eyes at his dove and grudgingly shoved the sweets back into his pocket. “Betrayal.”

“I’m heading in.” Shinichi walked past Kaito and towards his house.

“Are you sure you don’t want to check your head?” Kaito yelled at Shinichi’s back.

“No,” Shinichi answered over his shoulder. “But you should check my mailbox after your dove flies off. I have a feeling it’s going to shit on it soon.”

As if cued, Tamago suddenly stood up, waddling its butt around for a while before departing off to Kaito’s balcony.

Kaito stared at the mailbox. “Oh.”

Just one word was enough to make Shinichi laugh.

“Do you need company?” Shinichi asked, but he didn’t wait for Kaito’s reply as he’d already turned and started walking back to the mailbox.

“Wow, how kind of you,” Kaito muttered. He then pulled a cloth out of one sleeve and a bottle of water from another.

Again, like always, the supposedly simple clean-up that wouldn’t last more than five minutes somehow turned to fifteen and eventually dragged to thirty. And in between, there would be jabs, laughters, and if Shinichi was a little lucky, he would get to know another random, yet surface-level thing about Kaito that day.

Maybe Shinichi didn’t have the power or ability to relieve Kaito’s pain, but maybe he didn’t need to do anything either. All he had to be was simply Kaito’s neighbour, the one whose mailbox got shitted on a lot, the one who needed reminders to water his plants, and the one who would agree to eat fried rice at each other’s house.

And maybe being just like the way they always were was the one and only best thing Kaito could ask ever for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a random info: If there's one thing i love about slow-burns, it's always the moment when the characters transit from last name to first names (or pet names)  
thank you all for reading! Reviews are loved


	17. Chapter 17

_“So... I’ve heard.”_

“About the ice shard case?” Shinichi propped the phone in between his chin and shoulder while he flipped a file in his hands. “I got to admit, the murderer is smart to use it as a weapon, but he’d forgotten to—”

_“I’m not talking about that,”_ Hattori said, exasperated._ “But ok, I also think that ice shard trick was interesting when I heard it during the debrief, but it’s not da’ point why I called you.”_

Shinichi raised an eyebrow, as if Hattori could see it. “Then?” 

There was a muffled sigh. _”Kazuha told me you went to find Ran-neechan.”_

“_Oh,_ right.” Shinichi placed the case file on his table and took the phone in his hand. “I did.”

_“Previously I had to hear from Kazuha about your confession in London… And now this too." _Hattori clicked his tongue. _“You suck, Kudo.”_

“It happened literally yesterday,” Shinichi said with some attempts of defence. But he leaned against his chair and stared at the ceiling, mulling over about how strange his words felt; even though it _was_ just yesterday, it felt as though so much things had happened, and his meeting with Ran was almost like a blur...

_“You still suck,” _Hattori muttered. _“But anyway, how did it go?”_

“Toyama didn’t tell you?”

_“I wanna hear your version.”_

Shinichi glanced around his office and left his seat to get a coffee from the vending machine. And on his way, Shinichi explained his version of what happened (while answering some of Hattori's interjected questions too). Shinichi recounted the slight nervousness at the start, how Ran was empathetic all the time, and the eventual interruption when a new client came to look for Ran’s father. He wasn’t sure what the version Ran told Toyama was, but Shinichi still wasn’t going to mention Kaito.

As much as how Hattori could be horribly clueless in love-related matters (especially with Toyama), he could be pretty sharp about all the other things.

_“After so long, everything is back to normal now,”_ Hattori eventually said after Shinichi finished the entire story within the same trip of getting coffee and returning to his desk. _”Maybe we can finally have a double date or something.”_

Shinichi pursed his lips. All things were indeed good now like Hattori said, but like the quiet life he used to live, this new life—as well as his relationship with Ran—didn’t seem any close to being back to normal. It wasn’t just about the distance or time, but…

He watched the ripples on the surface of his coffee in the paper cup, not sure what to reply.

But Hattori helped him with that. _“Anyway, are you gonna move back to your old home?”_

Shinichi straightened. “Why the question?”

_“Just thought your place’s really hella far from everywhere. You got to change so many metro lines.”_

“That’s why I have a car.”

Hattori paused. _“I thought there’s also no reason for you to stay there anymore, no?”_

“Well, it’s…” Shinichi cleared his throat. “It’s not fun to move houses.”

_“Hmm, that make sense.“_

It might make sense to Hattori, and it might make sense when Kaito said it and referred to his 63 doves, but Shinichi found his answer made the least sense. There were almost no constraints for him to move; he didn’t have to go through the trouble of selling the house; his old home was ready to be occupied anytime; he barely had much belongings besides the few things in the study room. If Shinichi had to move, it might take him less than an hour of packing, including that two potted plants in his backyard too. 

But of course, Shinichi wasn’t going to go against what he literally said, so he hummed to Hattori’s response and went along with what seemed like the flow of the conversation before they hung up shortly after Shinichi received news to be dispatched to a murder scene. 

Though it wasn’t a happy thing for the dead victim, it was a good moment to temporarily distract Shinichi, just so he wouldn’t have to wonder why Kaito started popping up in his mind.

* * *

The next month that followed had been mad hell for Shinichi; A homicide division from a nearby precinct was shut down due to the high level of corruptions, and eventually, all their unfinished cases were sent to Shinichi’s department to deal with. He had been working full shifts almost every day, and not just sleep, he hadn’t even had time to get coffee sometimes.

But it seemed his department wasn't alone.

Aside from challenges, like what Sonoko’s uncle used to do, being _Kaitou Kid _was almost like a self-employed job; he got to choose the time and date for all the heists he’d done. But at the recent rate Kaitou Kid sent his heists' notes, the Task Force was also hustling hard to keep up with the thief’s pace. There was even once when Takagi said he had argued with one of the Task Force’s member over the last bento box in the convenience store (but none of them won because they let another citizen, who strangely happened to be looking for food at one in the morning, to take it instead). 

For now, Shinichi hadn’t figured out (or more like he didn’t have the time to figure out) Kid’s reasons for the spike in activity, but that wasn’t really part of his main concerns. What he cared—so much as to take the time out of his pile of cases, bring his walkie-talkie to the rooftop and stand by the ledge for the best connection to the Task Force’s frequency—was how Kid escaped.

From the dozen over times Shinichi had dropped into the Task Force’s “conversation”, he realised Kid had a lot more ways of escaping than he thought was possible (and it made Shinichi pitied the Task Force member for having to go through them sometimes). But half of Kid’s ploys would be either blending into the crowd with a disguise or flying away in his glider…

Tonight, Kid had chosen the latter.

And it was the one that bothered Shinichi the most.

Was the flight stable? Were there turbulences? Did he take off well? Did he land well? Did he stab himself? Did he hurt himself?

Did he do this? 

Did he do that?

When the Task Force’s commands over the radio weren't beneficial to Shinichi’s observation anymore, he then returned to his desk and pour himself back into work, just to stop himself from worrying about the thing he couldn’t control. But in most instances, he would just give up, apologise to Inspector Megure that he’d finish his work tomorrow, and leave the office.

Breaking promises was one thing, but now Shinichi had transcended to breaking laws; speeding and beating a red light or two on his way home.

As he found himself in the much familiar streets and nearing towards his mailbox—which strangely marked a greater sense of home than the actual, big house that stood behind it—he saw Kaito, who was also unceremoniously digging his ear as he skipped out of his door to throw a bag of trash (Shinichi guessed had to do with what he had used at his heist).

Kaito, of course, spotted Shinichi, and he gave an incredulous look when he stepped out of his car.

“You’re back earlier than usual,” Kaito commented after taking Shinichi’s hand to look at his watch. 

“And you too.” Shinichi gestured at him mindlessly. ”I thought you have a heist today?”

“I’m already done.”

Of course Shinichi knew Kaito was done, but for the sake of the pretence, just so Kaito would never,_ ever _suspect Shinichi to have used his radio and keep track on his activities… 

Damn, now that Shinichi stupidly realized, he had not only broke the law, but his work ethics too.

All for the man standing before him.

Shinichi irritably put out a hand. “Ok, where’s the jewel?” 

Kaito blinked. “Why?” 

“I figured if I’m not going to turn you in, I should at least do my part for the police and get the jewel back.”

“So righteous.” Kaito clapped his hands. “If I’m still in Kid’s attire, I’d definitely take my hat off to you.”

“Don’t change the subject. Jewel?”

“Aren’t you afraid that you’ll get suspected if you return my loot again?” Kaito said as he raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I’ve disguised as you before so it’s kinda on the track record.”

Shinichi put down his arm and narrowed his eyes. “Thanks for bringing up those memories.”

“My pleasure,” Kaito said before sighing wistfully into the dark sky above them. “They were good times indeed.”

_Good times, huh?_

Shinichi followed his gaze.

The thing was… it wasn’t just in the past.

Shinichi found this time a good time too.

But he wasn’t going to say that.

As he kept his head up and eyes still staring at the dark sky, he wondered if time would still treat them as kindly as they were now in their future.

* * *

“Hey, Kudo— Oh, where are you going?”

Shinichi’s hand froze, but just a millisecond too late, he’d already pressed for the lift, exposing where he wanted to go. Because given that they were on one of the few highest floors, the only place accessible, alongside with what his identity card allowed, was the roof.

Shinichi robotically turned as he watched Takagi and Shiratori approaching him, the questions still hanging heavily in the air.

Making sure the hand with the radio was behind his back, he pointed the other free hand to the lift. “Just— To the roof," he admitted.

“Did you start smoking?” Shiratori remarked. “I noticed you’ve been going to the rooftop lately.” 

Ah, it seemed his past movements weren’t _that _discrete after all. “No, I don’t smoke,” Shinichi clarified.

Takagi nodded understandingly. "If you’re finding a place to relieve stress and share a moment, I think the roof is an excellent choice," he added, “The view is nice at night.” 

Shiratori scoffed. “Sounds like you have lots of experiences _with someone_ about that.”

They talked for bit until the lift came, and Shinichi believed he’d used up all his lucks in his prayers as Takagi and Shiratori left for the office and didn’t suggest on following him. But not all luck was on his side when he realized the heist had long started. He tried to switch his radio on in the lift, but the signals were bad, so he had to do it when he was by the ledge.

By the time Shinichi finished adjusting the radio’s frequency, it seemed he was much later than expected; the heist was over.

Almost over.

_“zzztttt—zzztzt... Kid is on the other rooftop!” _

_“Is he going to escape by air this time?”_

_”Wait, he’s still checking the gem, but…”_

_“But what?”_

_“What the…?_

_”Hey! What is going on?”_

_”The gem! The gem is glowing!”_

_“What the hell do you mean?"_

_"It’s literally glowing— Ah shit! Kid’s flying away!”_

_“Where did he go?!”_

_“He’s flying northeast!”_

_“Team C dispatch! I repeat, Team C dispatch—”_

Shinichi switched off the radio. 

He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath the entire time until he released it.

Then, something pulled in his stomach, something unlike his past gastric attacks or the bullets or knives or even what the APTX pill did to him... he still wasn’t sure what, but it was just something so, so bad that it sent him running straight down the building via the emergency stairs, not bothering to inform anyone about his departure before he drove back home.

* * *

Shinichi shut his car door and walked over to the mailbox.

He had seen the dove—Tamago?—sitting on it countless of times, but never had he seen it standing like this now, as though it was awaiting for Shinichi’s arrival all the while.

It cooed in greeting

Shinichi bit his lip. He wasn’t sure if this was the best moment to realise the dove was actually… cute.

The sky rumbled, and Shinichi raised his head. He smelt some moisture in the air.

Yeah, definitely not the best moment. 

“Are you… Tamago?” Shinichi asked.

It stared at him.

“Whoever you are, do you know—”

Fluttering its wings, it flew off before Shinichi completed his sentence, but it wasn’t towards an aimless direction. Similarly to that time when it stole his mail, it looked like it had a purpose as it soared and curved towards the backyard behind Kaito’s house.

Once bitten, twice shy, but Shinichi would rather be bitten over five hundreds time than risk ignoring what the dove was trying to imply.

Since he couldn’t get through Kaito’s house and to his backyard, the only way was to climb over from his. He jogged into his house, past his kitchen and before climbing up the fences in his backyard.

The first thing Shinichi noticed when he jumped over was the stark whiteness across Kaito’s dim-lit garden. It didn’t just belong to the few doves that were standing around. Shinichi also found Kid’s abandoned white hat, his cape, and his white suit scattered from one spot to another.

As for Kid, he was standing before the bush of blue roses at the other corner of the backyard.

His gloves were still worn, but they weren’t white.

They were red.

Shinichi widened his eyes.

_Blood?_

The only remaining white on Kid was his pants.

_“How sad, no one cares about Kaitou Kid’s white pants.” _

Shinichi wasn’t sure why that scene suddenly popped up in his memories, but if he had to relive one moment, he wouldn’t mind taking that than this. 

The stillness in the dense air, alongside with Kid’s stiff back and lowered head sent Shinichi’s wariness up to the sky. 

“Hey,” Shinichi called out as he trudged across the garden and towards Kaitou Kid—Kaito. 

He didn’t move, or respond.

After what seemed like an eternity, Shinichi finally neared Kaito enough and patted on his shoulder.

Kaito flinched under his hand, and that movement sent a squeeze in Shinichi’s chest. 

“Hey,” Shinichi repeated. “Kaito. Are you—”

Kaito half-turned, his hair sticking closely to his forehead. He was still wearing his monocle, but the glass was misty.

And his eye, the one that wasn't covered by the monocle… 

It brimmed with tears. 

Shinichi’s heart hurts (yes, he was sure it was the heart now) as he watched Kaito’s pitiful attempts at changing his quivering lips into a smile. 

“I destroyed it.” Kaito weakly lifted a hammer that Shinichi didn’t notice in his hand. “I finally destroyed it."

Shinichi glanced down.

The red gem, which he didn’t notice earlier either, was all shattered on the grass.

Before anything else could be said, Kaito slumped into Shinichi’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH!!! That's a fanart created by Ornja On deviant art!!  
Send some love!!!
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/ornja/art/Tabula-Rasa-820497819  
Thank you for reading! Reviews are loved


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO EVERYONE!!! Before you guys start on the fic, please PLEASE send some love to the fantastic doujin BakaThief made on their tumblr: https://bakathief.tumblr.com/post/188875883218/tabula-rasa-by-balancingdiet
> 
> It's so beautiful asdfghjkl!!

Shinichi had experienced a fair share of pain—both physically and emotionally—to understand how some of them could feel familiar. But he never knew pain could be nostalgic too.

The sudden, sharp pain hit between Shinichi’s brows again.

It came in a set of three, a cooing sound, and then another...

Shinichi opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was white, but it wasn’t the culprit that was pecking his forehead. Tamago, or whoever that dove was, had flown away once Shinichi stirred and woke up, and the whiteness he saw was the rumpled bedsheet he had laid his head and accidentally fell asleep on.

Shinichi straightened away from the side of the bed and on his chair, and it was only after a second then he registered Kaito’s bed was empty. 

Widening his eyes, Shinichi spun around in his seat, and he found relief when he saw Kaito standing on the balcony (his navy blue shirt camouflaged him well against the dark sky, but his white pants exposed him bright). He was facing the street and dangling his bandaged hands over the railing.

When Kaito fainted in his arms, Shinichi thought of bringing him to the couch in the living room, like what he did during_that_ incident long, long time ago. But he decided to carry Kaito up to the bedroom, thinking it would be a better place to rest for him. Turns out, the clock on the wall now showed an hour before dawn, meaning Kaito woke up not long after he fainted. 

And what a plot twist, it was Shinichi that rested instead.

Shinichi stood up from the chair, not realising the existence of the blanket over his shoulder until it fell off and pooled on the floor. He stared at it for a moment longer than necessary before picking the blanket up and looking at Kaito’s back again.

He didn’t feel as though he deserved this.

Shinichi placed the blanket back on the bed. And now that he could properly look instead of fussing over Kaito’s comfort and tending to his hands previously, he noticed the bed was small. Or rather, it was small because of how sparse Kaito's bedroom was; there was nothing much, besides the bed, a corner desk, and a wardrobe.

To think that Kaito had make this home permanent… The first floor definitely fooled Shinichi well. 

Tentatively, Shinichi walked to the balcony and slid the glass door aside. It was breezy, and the moisture in the air smelt thicker than Shinichi last remembered when he first arrived home. 

”You’re awake,” Kaito said as a greeting.

Shinichi closed the balcony door shut and approached the railing. “Same back at you.”

“You snored.”

This was the last thing he expected the conversation to start with. Shinichi scowled. “I did not.”

Kaito laughed. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed. Your snore is pretty soft anyway.” 

_"Don’t change the subject,"_ was what Shinichi wanted to rebuke, but he pursed his lips, unable to form any words as he continued to stare at the side of Kaito’s face.

There was no subject, or anything, for Shinichi to say in the first place—

“How much do you know?” Kaito suddenly said as he continued to face the dark streets below.

“...What?”

Kaito pulled out one of the fragments of the shattered red gem from his pocket, which Shinichi had gathered from the backyard and placed them all on Kaito's desk. 

“For starters,” Kaito said as he fiddled the shard with dull interest. “Do you believe there’s a gem that can shed tears of immortality?” 

_Immortality?_

Shinichi stared.

For someone who once shrunk by ten years of age, it was hard for Shinichi to say he didn’t believe it, even if he didn’t want to. But in this context and from the way Kaito asked, he wasn’t sure what the correct answer should be.

“Maybe,” Shinichi said instead.

Kaito squeezed the shard in his fist before pounding it over the railing. Shinichi winced.

“To be honest, I don’t,” Kaito said. “But if I don’t, I don’t have anything else to pin on for all the sacrifices that had been made.”

From Kaito's reactions and the evidence in his hand, it was clear all the countless heists Kaitou Kid had done wasn’t to obtain this so-called _tears of immortality_, but to destroy it. 

But why?

And what sacrifices?

As though Kaito read Shinichi’s thoughts, he spoke, “Kuroba Toichi, my dad, was the first Kaitou Kid.” 

Shinichi widened his eyes.

“He died at the hands of the people who were seeking for this same gem, but I didn’t know anything back then. I’d thought he died due to a magic accident.” Kaito cleared his throat. “And so, the first Kaitou Kid disappeared from the surface of the Earth.”

It wasn’t hard for Shinichi to construct the timeline calculations in his head, and his heart swelled at the realisation of another horror in Kaito’s past. 

_He was only eight._

“Years later, I found a secret basement that my dad left behind. I didn’t think much of the consequences but only wanted answers, so I decided to be the ghost of the Phantom Thief.”

“…Why are you suddenly telling me all these?” 

Kaito tilted his head. “After all that earlier commotion, I figured you'd want to know.”

Shinichi hesitated. “But not at the expense of your feelings.”

Kaito chuckled, yet nothing about his laughter sounded real to Shinichi at all. “It’s okay,” he said.

_”How is this okay?”_ Shinichi wanted to yell back, but all the thoughts and words and sorrows of the entire moment were stuck as a lump in his throat. What’s more, this was just the _start_of Kaito’s past. How could Shinichi, much less Kaito, be able to bear it if they continued to delve deeper into it?

And about Aoko…?

Kaito regarded Shinichi for a while. “It seems as if you know something.”

Shinichi inadvertently glanced away, only proving Kaito’s suspicion right.

“Back to my first question.” Kaito turned around to lean his back against the railings. “How much do you know?” 

Shinichi pursed his lips.

“Tell me,” Kaito urged.

“…I happened to chance upon a few things and made my own guesses.”

“What are they?”

As the wind started to pick up and howl in the originally silent night, Shinichi reluctantly explained the things he thought he would carry to his grave—about Kaito’s unconscious apology to a person named _Aoko_, the hospital conversation, and the blue rose he found in front of the clock tower. But it wasn’t just unravelling Kaito’s secrets that made Shinichi horrible; having to see the weight pressing down on Kaito’s shoulders as he continued made everything much worse.

By the end of everything, Kaito finally nodded. “As expected of the Detective of the East, you’re right,” he said. “Aoko… She died three years ago.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“I know.” Kaito raised a hand. “Just let me bring some humour into this conversation, can you?”

Shinichi returned a wry smile. It seemed the least he could do.

“Those people you mentioned earlier,” Shinichi began. “Are they some kind of organization?”

Kaito nodded as he pocketed the shard back into his pocket in silence.

_“Are you pissed because you were expecting my answer to be… something exciting? Like, maybe someone from a deadly, criminal organization was hunting me down because I’m a threat to their secret plot?”_

So it wasn’t just a taunt Kaito made back then. There were some truth in there too.

“The organization—"

“Done and dusted like yours,” Kaito said. “In fact, I believe it was led by a member that worked under the Black Organization you destroyed. Everything slowly fell apart after you finished them.”

Shinichi said nothing, still struggling to get his feelings towards Kaito’s response straight. There was relief for another end of a criminal organization, but there were some things that didn’t make sense—like why Kaitou Kid still existed if everything was over—and also the guilt, that if Shinichi had brought the BO down sooner…

“About Aoko.” Shinichi swallowed, not sure if it was right to call her name like this. “Did she die in the hands of the same people who killed your father? Before their downfall?”

Something flickered in Kaito’s eyes; it was so brief, yet impactful enough to send even more guilt towards Shinichi’s way.

“It was before, but no, it wasn’t because of them,” Kaito said, and he raised his head to stare at the sky above them. There was a heavy pause, then he added, in a lower tone: “She died because of me.”

_What?_

“Since Aoko was young, her mother hadn’t been the best of health,” Kaito continued looking at the sky. “Just a few months after her family moved into my neighbourhood, her mother fell ill and had to be admitted into the hospital. Aoko visited her every day of the week, and I accompanied her several times. But after battling the illness for a year, Aoko’s mother passed away.

“Years later after we reached the eligible age, she signed up for a volunteering program in the hospital. And I followed too. Since then, it became our weekend thing; I would perform magic performance for the patients and visitors and she was my assistant. But everything changed after I started becoming Kaitou Kid.

“Life got busier for me, but I still managed to squeeze in some time to attend at least two sessions a month. Aoko obviously noticed the changes, but rather than questioning me about it, she was still grateful.” Kaito suddenly gave a bitter laugh. “She was always grateful.”

Shinichi nodded understandingly.

Kaito continued, “But things changed even drastically after those men that killed my father confronted me, while revealing they were searching for _Pandora_—the alias of that immortality stone. Since then I started planning and focusing on stealing gems. While hoping to find Pandora first, it was also to lure them out so I could bring them down easier.

“A year or so later, I discovered a rumour that said the Pandora was in Japan. I tripled my heists' activity and worked like hell to find it, and as a result, I’d severely neglected Aoko and missed all the volunteering sessions I should have gone.

“Then, on the night of my heist, which was also the night when Aoko went to the hospital to volunteer, a fire broke out at one of the facilities.” Kaito glanced at Shinichi. ”I’m not sure if you remember or know, but it was on the news.”

Shinichi frowned. “The hospital you invited me to?”

Kaito nodded.

“I… I don’t recall.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to.” Kaito licked his lips and took a deep breath. “Well, a fire broke out, but…” 

“...”

“But, sh— she...”

“She didn’t make it out in time,” Shinichi whispered, finishing the sentence Kaito had trouble completing. 

After a long while, Kaito nodded again. But he wasn’t exactly calm. 

He was simply… gone.

Shinichi parted his lips, ready to explain how the fire was an accident, and that it wasn’t Kaito’s fault. But as Shinichi took a breath to speak that, he knew Kaito had probably heard those words over a thousand of times, and beyond that, they weren’t the things Kaito needed at the moment.

So all Shinichi did was raising a hand and reached out for Kaito’s shoulder, giving it a light pat.

But that pat was like a wrecking ball, because the next thing Shinichi realized, tears welled up in Kaito’s eyes, like a gush of water bursting out from behind the broken glass walls. 

And those waves surged Shinichi, sending him in a swirl of his own tsunami too.

“The gem I stolen that night wasn’t even fucking Pandora, and those scums didn’t appear during that heist either,” Kaito choked out before pressing the palms of his bandaged hands into his face. “So in exchange for that wasted night, Aoko died.”

Shinichi felt a sting in an eye before rubbing it away. 

“Maybe she was lost on the floor. Or maybe she was trapped behind some damn door. But one thing I know for sure was if I wasn’t doing some fucking heist that night and was there with her for the volunteering session, she wouldn’t have died,” Kaito continued to blabber, “I couldn’t save my dad the last time, but I believe I could have saved Aoko.”

“Kaito—”

“And what else?” Kaito interrupted as he swung his arms back to his side, showing his slightly swollen eyes. “Oh, yeah. Sometimes when I’m flying, I’d see a vision of the burning hospital. I usually could control it, but on the night you found me, I had to stab myself in order to gain back my senses and flight control because the panic attack was too overwhelming—”

All of the sudden, Kaito grabbed the front of his blue shirt and heaved. 

Shinichi held onto Kaito’s elbow. “Hey, are you okay?” 

"I’m good.” Kaito sniffed and afforded a quick, reassuring smile before his face grew serious again. “Do you remember the time you told me to take a break? I actually did before, for two years.”

“The period you suddenly disappeared,” Shinichi said.

“Yeah. I stopped being Kaitou Kid after their downfall, but... I didn't think it was enough to account for the sacrifices.” Kaito patted a hand over his pocket. “Pandora owed me this much.”

_Sacrifices..._

“Did Aoko know you’re Kaitou Kid?” The words rolled out of Shinichi's tongue.

During the seconds as Kaito mulled over the question, Shinichi started to panic, wondering if it was a wrong thing to ask. But before he could retract his statement, Kaito left the railing and walked back into the bedroom.

Shinichi followed, closing the glass door behind him.

By his desk, Kaito pulled out the first drawer and took out a blue notebook. He caressed the cover with a form of gentleness that Shinichi never seen him had before—not even when handling those million-dollars’ worth gems he’d shone under the moonlight after his heists. 

Then, Kaito passed the book to Shinichi.

Shinichi tentatively accepted it. “What is this?”

“See for yourself.”

Suspicious, Shinichi flipped to a random page.

> _Dear Diary,_
> 
> _Today, Kaito and I went to Tropical Land._
> 
> _I know I should at least be a little bit happier—_

Widened eyes, Shinichi shut the book and snapped his head back at Kaito. “This is Aoko’s diary?”

Kaito nodded. “Her dad, Inspector Nakamori, gave it to me.”

“Inspector Nakamori?” Shinichi froze once he realized the connection. “Isn’t he the head of the Kaitou Kid Task Force?”

“He was,” Kaito clarified. 

Shinichi had to take a moment before the words sunk in. "They were related..."

Kaito gave a half-smile. “Life’s just so funny sometimes.”

“Then…”

“He’s now retired from the Force and helping his brother with the ski resort business in Niigata,” Kaito said. “After Aoko’s death, I told him everything; it’s the least I could do.”

“What did he say?”

Kaito chuckled, though it sounded hoarse at the end. “He told me I should get on with my life.”

_But it didn’t work out,_ Shinichi’s silent words hung in the air.

“Then, before he moved, he found the diary and gave it to me, hoping I could find closure or something," Kaito added.

_That didn’t work out either,_ Shinichi thought bitterly again.

Shinichi fumbled with the book. It was light, yet weighted heavy with the history of Kaito and Aoko’s life journey together, at least till the point when the fire took her away…

“I don’t think I have the rights to read it,” Shinichi eventually said.

“You were mentioned in there though.” 

Shinichi blinked. “What?”

“Edogawa Conan, the Kid-Killer.” Kaito smiled, and there was finally a tint of genuine brightness in his eyes. “You were her idol.”

Shinichi scratched a finger on his temple. “Um…”

“Actually, I think you two could’ve been pretty good friends; Both of you are quite similar—Always all about justice, fun to tease, and Tamago...” Kaito’s voice broke off a little. “Tamago loves... loved her too.” 

Shinichi swallowed, staring at the diary in his hand. “I wish I could meet her," he said, with all the truth he could ever put in a sentence. He looked up at Kaito. “Is there... anything else I can do?”

“No. You’d done more than half of my job when you took down the Black Organization.” A tug pulled at Kaito's lips as he rubbed a thumb over the other bandaged hand. “Besides, you’ve been... a very good distraction...for me.”

Shinichi wondered if he could agree the same.

A low rumble came from the outside, and through the view of the balcony glass door, Shinichi could see the trees swaying in the distant. 

“You should go before the rain pours,” Kaito said.

“Are you sure you want me to read this?” Shinichi asked again, lifting the diary.

“The truth is, I’m rather tired right now.” Kaito popped the second button of his blue shirt and slumped onto the bed. “It'll probably answer the remaining questions you have.”

In all honesty, Shinichi was never intent on needing an answer, but if Kaito wanted him to have it, he really had no reason to go against his wishes. He held the book to his chest.

“Do you want me to stay—”

“If it’s for any other circumstances, I would say yes.” Kaito grinned, though barely passing the mark. “But for now I want to be alone.”

“Ok.” Shinichi nodded. “I’ll go.”

“Thanks.”

Shinichi turned towards the door.

_“He told me I should forgive you, that’s how I can lessen my pain.”_

He wrapped a hand around the knob.

_”And you. Only if you know I forgive you, then it will lessen yours.”_

(Then what if the only person who could forgive you, was no longer around?)

_“Tabula Rasa.”_

Opening the door, Shinichi took one last glance back, watching as Kaito wearily climbed under his covers. 

_“You know... there’s a difference between hiding and starting anew.”_

Shinichi still hadn’t figured out which one fitted Kaito more, but at least for now, he knew Kaito wanted to be alone.

Closing the door behind him, Shinichi left for his own home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda in a little turmoil to see this fic coming to an end. Thank you all who have reached this far!  
Reviews are always loved


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gahhh!!! I've received another lovely fanart, done by Hykuraa, for one of the previous chapters!  
Please send some love too!!
> 
> https://hykuraa.tumblr.com/post/188964247578/have-i-mentioned-how-great-tabula-rasa-is-by

Dear Diary, 24 Dec

Hello! Before I start, let me first introduce myself. My name is Aoko, and I like to cook and volunteer at the hospital. There’s always this sense of accomplishment whenever people enjoy my cooking and company, and it makes me happy when they are happy!

What else... Oh, I haven’t thought of what I want to be when I grow up, but I do have lots of inspirations around. First of all, my dad is a Police Inspector! And Kaito, my childhood friend/neighbour is an amazing magician! Both Keiko and Sayaka, my close friends in high school, aspire to be a baker! Yuna too, wants to be a vet.

Ok, I think I’m starting to drift away from the main topic... Anyway, this notebook was a gift from Kaito. Or not. He said he got it as a complimentary item for some stuff that he bought online... But well, the fact that he even thought of me is already pretty sweet.

I originally wanted to use this book to do my homework, but Keiko suggested writing a diary with it, so I shall give it a go! Let’s see how long this diary-keeping thing will last (^-^)v

Dear Diary, 4 Jan

Bakaito got a cold today.

Okay. Let me rephrase that.

Kaito got a cold today.

Well, I guess he doesn’t deserve to be called Bakaito when it was sort of my fault that he became sick... But he’s so stupid! Yesterday, I told him I needed help because I sprained my ankle at the supermarket, and he came WITHOUT HIS COAT. It was such a long way home! What was he thinking??

But yeah... so now we’re both stuck at home. Me with a sprained ankle and him with a fever... I guess I can't see Kaito's ice skating fails any time soon! (≧∀≦)

Dear Diary, 22 Jan

Today, Kaito and I went to volunteer at the hospital.

We found out that Mika-chan’s dad passed away last night.

This is so horrible... Mika-chan loved her dad so much.

When I heard the news, I couldn't control myself and had to cry in the bathroom while Kaito started the magic show on his own.

I felt bad. The atmosphere wasn't great and Kaito wasn't in his best condition either, yet he still put on a smile the entire time.

Ended up, his performance cheered me up too.

I don't know what I'd do if Kaito wasn't there.

Dear Diary, 1 Feb

( •̀ω•́ )σ ( •̀ω•́ )σ ( •̀ω•́ )σ

KAITOU KID SUCKS

KAITOU KID!!!!

SUCKS!!!

( •̀ω•́ )σ ( •̀ω•́ )σ ( •̀ω•́ )σ

Dear Diary, 28 Apr

It’s been a few months since Kaitou Kid returned.

I never like him, and will never understand why everyone treats him like a celebrity either. But now... I think I should start viewing this from another perspective.

Since Kid first disappeared, and also mom’s death... I rarely see dad ever energised for anything. But after Kid returned, he's so much more motivated to go to work now. Speaking of which, dad was on his way out to the office before I went to school this morning. He even agreed when I suggested to make and deliver him bento dinner. He never wanted them the last time, just because...

But even though I've decided this MAY be the best for dad, that DOESN’T mean I will EVER tolerate Kid’s criminal ways!! Dad is definitely gonna catch him in the end, and by then, let’s see if he can still walk around in his costume!!

Seriously though, what’s with his hat.

He looks stupid.

(」ﾟﾛﾟ)｣

Dear Diary, 18 May

Today, Kaito and I went to Tropical Land.

I know I should at least be a bit happier when I had so much fun, but I still feel a little bad... especially when the reason why I asked Kaito out in the first place was because I thought he was Kaitou Kid! Or at least that was what my dad thought. 

But in the end, I’m glad Kaito proved my dad and I wrong.

How can he be Kaitou Kid anyway?

I think I owe Kaito more than just an ice cream treat for ever doubting him. Maybe I should ask him out to Tropical Land again properly next time. And then we’ll have real loads of fun!

Dear Diary, 30 May

EDOGAWA CONAN THE KID KILLER IS MY NEW IDOL!!!

I have no idea who this kid is, but he’s really, really smart and cute! And comparing to all the Kid’s fans out there, I can’t believe it’s A CHILD that knows what’s right and wrong...

Hakuba-kun always uses the right words to irritate Bakaito, but I think the name “Edogawa Conan” has more effect on him. If I could get an autograph... I think it would be the best thing to use to tease Kaito and his stupid obsession with Kaitou Kid! (｀▽´)

Dear Diary, 21 June

Today is Kaito’s birthday!!

I used to always buy him magic crafts and gadgets from our local bookstore, but now that he has the capabilities to make his own tricks, it’s a definite no-no! I considered bringing him to his favourite Ramen store, but I figured it’d be the easiest to just ask what he wanted to do or eat instead.

Guess what was his answer?

He said he wanted me to teach him how to cook fried rice.

I was like what?? That’s it? And he said yeah. So we spent the entire day getting the ingredients at the supermarket before going over to my house. It was easy and Kaito got the steps fast, but... silly Kaito. I mean... if he ever wants to eat it, he can tell me and I can always cook it for him.

But oh well! It’s nice to know Kaito wants to learn something else besides magic tricks. I had fun teaching him anyway. And I believe he had fun too!

As long as he’s happy, I think that’s all that really matters.

* * *

“Kudo-kun!”

Shinichi shut the notebook and turned, watching as Takagi walked to close their distance on the rooftop. Keeping the book inside the pocket of his suit jacket, Shinichi greeted back.

“I thought you’re taking a break.” Takagi gestured to Shinichi’s suit once he stood beside him. “Turns out you’re reading your notes? For a case?”

“No, it’s not anything related to work.” Shinichi afforded a smile, but there was just so much his lips could move as his heart squeezed at the thought of Kaito.

Takagi nodded understandingly and said nothing more, which Shinichi couldn't be any more thankful for. “Anyway, I’m not sure if anyone told you since you missed this morning’s debrief, but a new division is on its way.”

“Yeah, Inspector Megure did tell me,” Shinichi said.

“I’m so glad things are going back to normal for us again.” Takagi heaved out a relief sigh after a long stretch. “And maybe by then, you can also focus on what’s worrying you all these while.”

Shinichi blinked. “...What?”

Takagi raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been worrying about something, or someone, haven’t you?”

"Um..."

“I may be wrong, and I’m sorry if I am. It’s just that I noticed some similar things in you that I had whenever I worried for Miwako-san.” Takagi scratched the back of his head. “I hope things are okay for you.”

“...Thank you.” Shinichi turned and looked over the view beyond the roof. “Anyway, you’re not wrong. There’s someone I’ve been worrying about recently.”

And that was all Shinichi could say.

It wasn't just for the sake of Kaito’s privacy or identity. The truth was, Shinichi had no idea what to do besides worrying. And this was the first time he felt so, so useless in this entire decade of his life.

He pressed a hand over his suit, feeling the bulge from the notebook.

“Then I hope things will work out for that person too...” Takagi’s voice trailed off as his brows furrowed in concern. “Actually, is he or she someone I know? I’ll be more than glad to help if I can.”

“No, you don’t know him... but he did knock you out disguise as you before,” Shinichi muttered at the end.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Shinichi smiled. “Thanks for your concern. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Takagi slapped a hand over Shinichi’s back. “We’re a team after all.”

* * *

Dear Diary, 16 July

Kaito has been pretty busy lately. And tired. Yes. Definitely tired.

I thought it was related to his track-and-field club and went to ask Chihaya-chan, but she said there wasn’t any recent competition lately. In fact... Kaito hasn’t been an active member since many months ago.

I then asked Kaito a few times about it, but he always deflected my questions and started talking about other things. And that is ALWAYS his habit. Guess what, BAKAITO??? The more you try to avoid, the more obvious it becomes! <(｀^´)>

I'm so frustrated at him, but you know what’s even more frustrating? It’s the way he never fails to make me want to forgive him in the end even though I should have stayed angry at him longer. Always giving me those pretty roses and placating me with Tamago...

So SO FRUSTRATING!!

Dear Diary, 11 Aug

Kaito fell asleep in class again.

It’s not like I’m worried for his grades when he never needed to pay attention in class to score well. (;¬_¬) What I’m worried about is his health.

I’ve already given up asking why and what he is exactly busy with, but I’m afraid that he’d started stressing himself to attend the volunteering sessions with me, just because he doesn’t want me to worry...

I’m grateful, and forever will be, for those days when he accompanied me to visit my mom and even signing up for the volunteering program just for me. I’m really, really grateful for all he has done and all that he is doing now, but what I want is to be able to help Kaito, to lift whatever burden he is carrying... And what I want even more is for him to trust me. Trust me enough so that I can do all those things I want to do for him...

Just... ugh.

Stupid, stupid Bakaito...

Dear Diary, 9 Sep

Today is my birthday.

We didn't have school and Keiko asked why I didn’t take the opportunity to hold a party, but to be honest, it slipped my mind. I had been so busy with homework and worrying about... well, yeah.

Dad is still at work, but he wished me before he went. Keiko, Sayaka and Yuna came over to my house and baked a cake for me. Everyone in the hospital helped to celebrate too when I went to volunteer in the evening. Kanna-chan even made a bracelet as a gift! Having a party or not, I still feel extra loved today.

As for Kaito... he had wished me in the morning through a text, but I didn't see him all day. He must be busy.

It’s fine anyway. There’s always next year.

.

.

OH my god. Bakaito CAME.

Guess how did he do it?! He had climbed up to my balcony and scared the hell out of me! AND HE STILL HAD THE CHEEKS TO SAY HE WAS 12 MINUTES EARLY. He must be some monkey in his past life or something! ヽ(ಠ_ಠ)ノ

He then asked me to follow him to his backyard. Like, seriously, he could have called or texted me on the phone instead of climbing up to my balcony... but beside the point, I followed while he led the way.

And turns out this Kaito... He had cultivated a bush of blue roses as a gift for my birthday.

Oh boy... It is really, really beautiful!!!! And I think I must be so overwhelmed that I just... sort of pounced onto him as a form of...thanks. (//∀//)

I called it a hug, and he called it an attempted murder.

Then with only 3 minutes left, he sang me a birthday song with Wasabi and Curry sitting on his shoulders while Tamago sat on his head. I think I hadn’t laughed that hard since ages.

And I think I hadn’t seen Kaito looked so bright and cheery for a long time.

He told me to make a wish afterwards. But to be honest, I don’t think I needed one.

At that point of time, I felt as though all my wishes had already come true.

Dear Diary, 1 Nov

With the way Bakaito has been handling his life, I knew he will fall sick sooner or later...

He’s now down with a cold and a fever and has been missing from school for three days.

I was so tempted to tell him a ‘I told you so,’ when I dropped by his house for a visit, but I rather Kaito get well soon than to jinx him any further. He kept on drifting in and out of his sleep too, and it pained me when I saw him like that.

I stayed till dinner time and had to force feed him the porridge I cooked, while convincing him that I DID NOT put any fish in it for about 90 times. He seemed to care more about the non-existent fish than his fever and the medicines he hadn’t eaten. Silly Bakaito.

Maybe I should visit him tomorrow again.

Dear Diary, 2 Nov

Today, Kaito got admitted to the hospital. He’s getting proper treatment, but he’s still sick, which is why it’s getting worrisome. This is the first time he’s been sick for so long.

And luckily Jii-chan was around... Or I don’t know what to do alone...

Dear Diary, 3 Nov

<strike>Kaito</strike>  
<strike>Kaitojis  
</strike> <strike>Kaito iskasit</strike>

Kaito is Kaitou Kid.

The portrait of his dad in his room... I thought it was just an ordinary portrait. I thought...

I’ve thought so many things.

I just wanted to pack Kaito’s clothes. I don’t know why I heard a sound behind the portrait. I don’t know why I decided to give it a push. I don’t know why the portrait could flip.

I don’t know why I ended up in another room.

I... don’t know.

In the end, I had to lie to Jii-chan that I had something urgent and couldn’t bring Kaito’s clothes.

I can’t face Kaito.

I just can’t.

But then... What should I do now?

Dear Diary, 6 Nov

Kaito is well.

That’s all that mattered for now.

Dear Diary, 7 Nov

THIS BAKAITO. DID HE SERIOUSLY SEND A HEIST NOTE RIGHT AFTER HE RECOVERED?!

WHY IS HE DOING THIS TO HIMSELF.

Dear Diary, 10 Nov

It’s been a long time since I went to Kid’s heist.

Tonight’s loot was a golden sapphire, and it was held inside a museum of a very, very wealthy man... And thanks to dad, I got into the museum and avoided being squashed by the crowd that were cheering outside, but I wasn’t allowed to hang out at the main area. I went to the security room instead.

The heist lasted around ten minutes, which was quite typical, based on what I heard from dad. Blackout. Smoke bombs. Escape. But for that ten minutes, dad had spent the entire day with the Task Force and the owner, just to prep enough to take down Kid.

And as for Kaito... he probably used hours and hours to plan, hours and hours to prepare, and hours and hours to do all of everything for this... and yet after a day or two, he would return the loot back in great condition...

Why?

I can’t figure Kaito out. Or Kaitou Kid. All these things... they don’t make sense. And if I can’t understand, I can’t find any reason to forgive Kaito.

But I want to.

I really want to.

Why is he making it hard for me to do so?

Dear Diary, 14 Nov

What should I do?

Dear Diary, 16 Nov

What should I do?

Dear Diary, 20 Nov

What should I do?

Dear Diary, 22 Nov

What should I do?

Dear Diary, 28 Nov

At the rate Kaito is sending his heist notes, I’m pretty sure he’s going to fall sick again, what’s more the weather is getting really cold soon... How does Kaitou Kid keep himself warm in his costume? And that hat... it’s just ridiculous.

Everything is ridiculous...

Maybe I should have made a wish when Kaito asked me to on my birthday.

Maybe I should have told him how I feel.

Maybe.

I don’t know anymore.

Dear Diary, 24 Dec

This diary is one year old now.

How time flies so fast...

Oh, and it’s Christmas tomorrow too. Keiko had invited me to her house to celebrate, and I think I’m going to go.

It’s the only place I could go.

Dear Diary, 18 Jan

During the volunteering session today, Kanna-chan told me she missed Kaito and his magic shows.

It’s good to know I’m not the only one too.

But even though I feel that every single day, being told about it by someone else caught me off guard, and I didn’t really know how to response. So I just... told her he will drop by soon...

I think Kanna-chan wasn't convinced though, which isn't strange. I mean... I'm never a great liar after all. But it's ironic how Kaito hasn't seen through the things I've been hiding from him until now.

* * *

Shinichi reached the last written page of the book.

(But it wasn’t the end. In fact, there wasn’t an end.)

He brushed a finger at the bottom of the page, feeling the creases caused by the countless blotches of dried, water stains...

Shinichi closed the book.

Of course he knew better, but it was easier, and nicer, to think it was simply water and nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's one more chapter and then an epilogue and we're done! I hope to finish this before the month end, but... no promises for now. Thank you for reading and reviews are loved


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASDFGHJHGFDSFGH I received another beautiful fanart done by Ornja on deviant art!! *Spoiler warning for end of chapter 17, but since you've reached this chapter, I supposed you know as much*
> 
> Show some love!!
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/ornja/art/Tabula-Rasa-820497819

After the urgent meeting held in the morning, Shinichi took the remaining day off from work and headed home. The thoughts of his action-plan later had taken up most of his brain space throughout the ride, and it was a wonder how he reached home without crashing into a tree or two.

Stepping out of his parked car, Shinichi checked his mailbox. It was strange to not see anything on it for the past two days, be it a dove or the slightest of shit-stains—

Shinichi cringed at himself for those thoughts and left the mailbox.

But instead of going to his house, Shinichi walked over to Kaito’s. He patted his suit’s pocket along the way, feeling the hard notebook against his chest. Though he never left the book anywhere else, he couldn’t help but to check its existence every hour of the day since Kaito passed it to him. The diary wasn’t just the last few possessions Kaito had of Aoko's—Kaito’s trust tied heavily to it too.

Shinichi would rather die than lose it.

Outside of Kaito’s home, Shinichi hovered a finger over the bell for a long while before ringing it (he might actually find this harder than destroying the Black Organization). The blinds were down and he couldn’t see anything inside, but he heard the faint chime echoed behind the door, followed by the sound of shuffling steps—

The door opened.

Instead of Kaito, standing before Shinichi was the old man he accidentally and awkwardly mistook as Kaito’s disguise a long time ago.

Shinichi gaped, lost for words at the moment.

The old man was faster to recover as he smiled. “Hello,” he said, his voice soft and kind like what Shinichi remembered.

“Hi, um, I’m looking for Kaito,” Shinichi said. “Is he in?”

“You missed him. He’s on his way to the hospital."

_“What?”_ Shinichi’s eyes widened in horror. “Shit, is he alright? What hap—”

The old man raised a hand. “Sorry, I should have elaborated,” he said apologetically. “I meant he’s on his way to the hospital for his volunteering session.”

Feeling the heat rising from the back of his neck and to his face, Shinichi cleared his throat and turned away.

The old man smiled, in a way like he understood Shinichi’s predicament.

“Is he even in the right state to go?” Shinichi muttered.

The old man sighed with a hint of exasperation. “I told him the same thing, but he said he can’t miss a session.”

_Can’t..._ Shinichi’s hand unconsciously reached out for the bulge in his suit. “I see, thank you. I shall g—”

“Wait,” the old man interrupted, stopping Shinichi’s attempt to backtrack away from Kaito’s house. “Are you free for a cup of tea?”

Shinichi checked his watch, contemplating for a moment. If Kaito really did just leave, he should still be able to make it in time to the hospital before he ended his performance…

“Sure,” he agreed.

The old man looked relieved at Shinichi’s response. “Thank you.” He stepped aside for Shinichi to enter.

It was also two days since Shinichi last saw Kaito’s place, but it seemed a little off—or strange. It took him a while, but he figured the difference was the lack of doves perching or lingering anywhere.

And of course, because Kaito wasn’t around too.

The old man invited Shinichi to the couch while he headed to the kitchen. A minute later, he came back with two cups of tea on a tray.

“How may I address you?” Shinichi asked.

“You can call me Jii,” Jii said, passing a cup to Shinichi.

“Thank you.”

“So, Kudo-kun...” Jii sat on the other end of the couch. “How is it like to have Kaito-botchama as your neighbour?”

“Um.” Shinichi shifted the cup from one hand to another before awkwardly raising it to his lips. “I think it’s rather... interesting?”

“I’ve heard a lot about you from him.”

Shinichi was one second away from spitting out his tea if he had drank it before Jii said what he’d said. He swallowed a breath and _finally_ took a sip, just to buy some time to register Jii’s words.

“I hope they were good things,” Shinichi murmured, placing the cup on the coffee table after he was done.

“They definitely were.” Jii smiled. “I’m glad I didn’t persuade him to move when I realized you knew about his identity.”

Shinichi blinked.

“I was worried,” Jii quickly explained with a laugh. “You were quite a pes— persistent little Detective back then.”

_Was he about to say pest? _"It’s understandable; we weren’t exactly on very friendly terms with other.” Shinichi rubbed a hand behind his neck. “So, Kaito chose to stay in the end?”

“He wasn’t sure either, but he said it should be fine.” Jii chuckled. “Besides, he was worried you would kill the two plants in your backyard too.”

“...What?”

“I know. I had the same reaction.”

Shinichi scratched the space between his brows. “I don’t think I can ever understand him.”

Jii sighed. “I don’t think anyone can either.”

There was something heavy about the following silence, same for the notebook that Shinichi had inside his suit...

“Does Kaito really have 63 doves?” Shinichi asked out of the blue.

Jii looked a little confused, but he shook his head to answer. “It’s 67 now. Two recently hatched.”

_Unbelievable._

“Anyway,” Jii began, picking up his cup from the coffee table. “I want to thank you.”

A weight fell on Shinichi’s shoulders, and he lowered his gaze. “If it’s about the two nights before, there’s no need for it—I barely did anything.”

“You did more than what anyone could have. But I’m not just referring to that night; I’m referring to everything.”

Shinichi raised his head. “Everything?”

“When Kaito-botchama wanted to become Kaitou Kid again—to continue his search for Pandora—I was really worried.” Jii’s hand started to tremble, and he placed the cup back on the table. “But I’m actually _more_ worried about what would happen _after _he found Pandora, because…”

Shinichi nodded, knowing what Jii’s unspoken words meant.

“That’s why I’m really glad you’re there for him, Kudo-kun,” Jii said, his eyes filled with an abundance of hope behind his round spectacles. “Even though Pandora was found, you’ve given him something else to look for.”

“I—" Shinichi swallowed the returning lump in his throat. “But all I’ve done is be his neighbour… and making him clean my mailbox when his doves shit on it.”

The slight tension in the air broke as Jii laughed. “That’s exactly it.”

Shinichi wasn’t sure if that was exactly _it_. He did think that was enough once, but that was before he knew the true tragedy behind Aoko’s death, and how Kaito had blamed himself for it. And worse, that Aoko actually knew about...

Things just weren’t as simple as Shinichi wished to be—

“Kaito-botchama... he’s indeed happier now.” Jii brushed a finger across an eye briefly. “He’s a lot happier than before.”

“...Is he?”

“You should have seen how he—” Jii shook his head. “I don’t think you’d want that.”

Shinichi momentarily glanced at the floor, the same spot where he found Kaito on the first night he had been in this house.

He supposed that could count as a glimpse of the experience.

“After Aoko-chan passed, Kaito-botchama didn’t bring up her name, not even once,” Jii said, before looking at Shinichi with the same glint of hope in his eyes again. “But ever since he started talking about you, there were instances when he unconsciously mentioned about Aoko-chan... I think he’s coming to accept her passing, and it speaks a lot about the changes in him too.”

Shinichi hoped, with all his strength, that it was true.

“I’m glad he moved out of Ekoda.” Jii glanced wistfully towards the direction of Kaito’s backyard. “He needed more than a change of view.”

“...I have a question,” Shinichi spoke, and continued when Jii looked back at him. “I get why Kaito wanted to move out of his old home, but was there a specific reason why he did it years after Aoko… died?”

“That?” Jii let out a breath that resembled a laugh. “It was because he lost a bet to Hakuba-kun and Koizumi-san; he never wanted to move in the first place.”

“What?” Shinichi frowned. _And Hakuba? Isn’t he—_

“They were Kaito-botchama and Aoko-chan’s high-school mates,” Jii explained. “Though Kaito-botchama prefers to call them acquaintances, I believe he regards them as friends.”

_“Life’s just so funny sometimes.”_

Jii continued, “Before Hakuba-kun returned to London, the three of them had a little farewell party at a bar, and there, they made a bet: Whoever the bartender serves last loses. If Hakuba-kun loses, he will visit the Queen and dance in front of her, if Koizumi-san loses, she cannot date for a year, and if Kaito-botchama loses, he has to move out.”

Shinichi wondered for a moment, and asked, “Who suggested the bet?”

“It was Hakuba-kun.”

_Ah._ Shinichi nodded, roughly knowing what Hakuba was trying to do. “I’m surprised that Kaito agreed.”

“Kaito-botchama would do whatever it takes to embarrass Hakuba-kun,” Jii said before he gave a nervous laugh. “Besides that, he thought the odds would be in his favour too.”

Shinichi quirked an eyebrow. “How so?”

“He believed the bartender wouldn’t serve him last—because that bartender was me.”

“You— You were the bartender?” Shinichi blurted.

Jii sheepishly nodded.

“I... see,” Shinichi said, not sure how to feel. Then another thought struck him. “Was that bet actually all a plan?”

“No; I had no idea they were betting on anything,” Jii clarified. “The only reason I served Kaito-botchama last was because he ordered _Tabula Rasa_, and I ran out of orange slices.”

Shinichi straightened. “Did you say _Tabula Rasa_?”

“Yes.” Jii tilted his head. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, it’s... it’s nothing,” Shinichi said as he laid against the couch and stared up at the ceiling. 

The realization came a little slow and late, but it was all now clear in Shinichi's head—Kaito wasn't hiding, and neither was he starting anew.

To Shinichi, Kaito was simply stuck in time.

The time that doesn’t heal any wounds.

* * *

The hospital floor was extremely quiet when Shinichi first stepped out of the lift, and for a moment when he wondered if he was too late, a muffled sound of applause erupted from the end of the corridor. 

Relief washed over Shinichi as he quickened his steps, and he pressed a hand over the bulge in his suit again.

After making a final turn, Shinichi entered the room. It was much packed than Shinichi remembered seeing the last time he was here, and he had to stretch his neck a little to see what everyone was gathering around. And there—like what Shinichi was glad to find—was Kaito.

Shinichi joined the crowd, and this time he was sure Kaito didn’t notice him; he was too busy clearing up the aftermath of his previous tricks and gadgets. And when Shinichi took an even closer look, he noticed Kaito had removed his hand bandages and used smaller band-aids instead.

He was indeed a _Bakaito_.

“Okay!” Kaito clasped his hands and turned back to his audiences once he was done. “For my last performance, I’ll need a number of volunteers! Is there anyone that wants to go first—”

Before Kaito even finished, the children began jumping about with raised hands. Shinichi watched in amusement as Kaito had a painful, hard time choosing, but in the end he picked a little girl with pigtails. The girl squealed in excitement and hugged her father—who had an IV stand beside him—before skipping to the front.

After the girl introduced herself as Yuki, Kaito started the show. He first took out a bunch of balloon string from his sleeve before fishing out a couple of coloured pens from his back pocket. Though both hands full, he reached out for his other sleeve and pulled out a bulky drawstring pouch.

“Now, from the bag, Yuki-chan will— Opps!”

Over a dozen coloured-balls overflowed and slipped out of the pouch, bouncing all over the floor. As everyone scattered around to help pick them up, Shinichi squeezed his way through the crowd and found four.

“Oh, sorry— Thank you very much, and thank you too,” Kaito said to the kids that passed him the fallen balls.

Reaching behind him, Shinichi tapped Kaito’s shoulder.

“Ahah, thank y—” Kaito turned, and stopped short when they made eye contact.

A beat of silence passed, and Shinichi cleared his throat. “Do you need an assistant?”

Kaito’s face was still blank for a second before he broke into a grin. “Are you volunteering yourself?”

“My question only requires a yes or a no.”

Kaito chuckled. “Yes.”

“Ok.” Shinichi took the drawstring pouch from Kaito’s hand and placed all the balls back into it.

After the commotion, they returned to the front, standing side by side with Yuki as well. Kaito first apologised for his slip-up, (very unnecessarily) introduced Shinichi as his assistant for the day, and resumed the show.

Passing the pouch to Yuki, Kaito asked her to pick a ball and a coloured marker of her choice before instructing her to draw on it. Then, with the loose balloon string and a _magical_ wave, the ball _poofed_ into a helium balloon, and it floated with the cute bunny-face that Yuki had drawn.

More kids raised their hands, wishing to be the next lucky volunteer. But Shinichi wondered what the difference was, when in the end, Kaito stayed till he finished giving each and every children the balloon they desired to have.

* * *

“Oh? You’re still here?”

Shinichi turned to the voice, catching the moment when Kaito jumped over a crack on the pavement. He stood up from the bench he had been sitting on while waiting for Kaito.

“Why are you surprised?” Shinichi asked back, confused to why Kaito thought he would even leave.

Kaito shrugged once he reached Shinichi’s side. “You left without waiting the first time.”

Shinichi pursed his lips, having nothing to say to counter that. He then glanced behind Kaito and at the entrance of the hospital building he just came out from.

They were supposed to leave together after Kaito’s performance, but in the midst of Kaito’s packing, a woman came over and wanted to speak with Kaito. Shinichi couldn’t recognise her at first, but it was in a good way; she wasn’t in a wheelchair, and her face looked much fresher and less pale than what he remembered…

Kaito patted his shoulder, breaking Shinichi’s thoughts. “Anyway, as thanks, let me treat y—"

“Is everything alright?” Shinichi interjected.

Kaito tilted his head back. “What?”

“The lady,” Shinichi said. “Kanna’s mother.”

“Oh. Yeah. She’s alright. Better even.” Kaito beamed. “After years of treatment, she's going to be officially discharged next week.”

Shinichi heaved a small sigh of relief. “That’s really great.”

“Yeah.” Kaito’s smile slowly faded as he looked at the hospital, and the silence that followed lasted longer than Shinichi expected.

Then, without a word as well, Kaito walked away.

Shinichi followed. “I think Aoko would be happy if she knew,” he said behind Kaito’s back.

Kaito stopped.

Shinichi too, just a few steps behind.

A breeze and the sound of distant ambulance siren later, Shinichi heard: “I think so too.”

Taking a breath, Shinichi tentatively overtook Kaito’s path and pulled out Aoko’s diary from his suit.

Kaito glanced up, and then at the blue book in Shinichi’s hand.

“Thank you for letting me read this,” Shinichi said.

Kaito's eyes drooped as he took the book carefully with both hands. And again, with the same care like he did, he brushed his thumbs over the cover.

“I hope you didn’t sign in it,” he said after a long while.

“…What?”

It seemed to take Kaito a lot of effort, but all he produced was a meek smile. “She wanted your autograph.”

Shinichi scoffed. “Of course I didn’t sign in it.”

The smile didn't last long on Kaito's lips. “So… now you know."

Shinichi nodded.

“Well.” Kaito let out a soft sigh. “There goes my image of the best neighbour—”

“What do you mean?” Shinichi smirked, catching Kaito off guard when he did. “You’re still my best neighbour.”

Shinichi had never seen Kaito’s eyes grew so big like this moment before.

“And you’re not just my best neighbour,” Shinichi continued. “You were Aoko’s too, and _that’s _what I know.”

“Wow, uh.” Kaito cleared his throat. “I— um, thanks?”

“Speaking of which, I still haven’t thanked you for the time you encouraged me to speak to Ran, and when you talked to her on my behalf too.” Shinichi smiled. “You taught us how time doesn’t heal all wounds; it’s all about what _we _do with the wound instead.”

Kaito’s lower lip quivered for a moment, but he bit it to stop it from showing.

“And...” Shinichi softened his gaze, just as much as he did to his voice. “I think that’s what you have to do too.”

“But— Aoko—" Kaito clutched tightly onto the book, the band-aids stretching over his skin. “What… should I do?”

“You should try to forgive yourself.”

Kaito’s eyes glistened for a moment, but his fringe covered everything when he lowered his head. “…Do I have the rights to do that?” he asked in a pained whisper.

“It’s not only for yourself; it’s for Aoko too.” Shinichi reached out and patted Kaito’s hands, slowly releasing his tense grip. “I’m sure she would want that.”

Kaito sniffed.

“Time doesn’t heal, but only when you're willing to heal your own wounds, then time can help you,” Shinichi said. “And then I can help you too.”

Kaito raised his head, regarding Shinichi in an open-mouthed silence.

Shinichi turned to the hospital in wonderment. “Do you know if the hospital accepts walk-ins, or do I have to apply online first?”

Shifting the diary to one hand, Kaito lowered his arms to his side. “…What are you talking about?”

“I want to be a volunteer,” Shinichi said.

“Y-You want to be a volunteer?” Kaito blinked rapidly. “But your work—”

“A new division is on its way soon, and by then, our workload will return to normal.”

Kaito hummed. “But... what are you going to do?”

Shinichi shrugged. “Maybe I can read them The Adventure of Sherlock Holm—"

Kaito suddenly laughed, and it sounded bigger and heartier than what Shinichi ever heard.

“Please tell me it’s a joke,” Kaito said after catching his breath.

Though scowling, Shinichi squirmed in his position, wondering if it was weird that he liked Kaito’s laugh more than he should, especially when he knew it was a mocking one too. “It’s not a joke.”

“Fine, if that’s what you want—”

“If you don’t mind, I can be your assistant too.”

A brief wonderment creased past Kaito’s face after he finally stopped laughing, but his curved lips remained intact. “I’d like that.”

“Do you want to eat Ramen? My treat, as your future assistant,” Shinichi said, pointing to a random direction (no matter where it was, they would walk there together anyway.)

If it was even possible, Kaito’s smile grew wider at Shinichi as he skipped next to his side.

“I’d like that too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! reviews are loved


	21. Chapter 21

Hate seemed like a strong word, but Kaito wasn’t sure what else to term his feelings towards Hakuba when all he wanted to do was to put laxative in his tea _every_ day. 

And amazingly, even when Hakuba was thousand over miles away, Kaito still stayed true to his feelings, and he considered the cost-benefits analysis of flying to London to spike the very tea Hakuba was sipping now. 

Then, on the top of Kaito’s phone screen, Hakuba made a show of placing his porcelain cup on a round and exquisite-looking table before shifting his front camera back to his face. 

_“Do you like my coffee table? You can only find this design in Britain,” _Hakuba said, flicking his (stupid) fringe aside. _”I can send one over to you as a house-warming gift.”_

Kaito gritted his teeth. “No.”

_“What about a mirror?” _Akako suggested on the bottom of Kaito’s phone screen. _“I know places that can do special customization.”_

“I don’t need anything from the both of you.”

_“Clearly.”_ Akako scoffed, narrowing her eyes._ “Seeing that your birds are taking up most of the spaces in your house.”_

Kaito glanced over his shoulder, checking what Akako saw to make the statement. And it was true. His doves were all over the living room, standing on everything that was possible for them to perch on; he should probably only let the few obedient ones out if he didn’t want his neighbours to think he was planning a coup d'état with his doves.

Saying nothing to Akako’s comment, Kaito returned to his front door. He was still in the midst of moving his things inside his house before the three-way video call happened, and the two pesky non-humans (one devil and one witch) called him and demanded a house tour inside. 

“Ok. I’m ending the call—”

_“Wait.”_

“What now.” Kaito scowled at Hakuba on the screen. 

_“So… Are you sure about this?”_

Kaito sighed. “For the hundredth time, I’ve already said I will honour the bet—”

_“Not that.”_ Hakuba waved a hand. _“I’m asking if you’re sure you don’t want a coffee table—”_

Kaito cut the video call and headed out of the house. 

Pushing his phone in his back pocket, he walked to his mailbox, where the delivery guys _kindly_ left his moving boxes. He was about to lift one up when a voice called out from behind.

“Hello.”

Kaito placed the box back on the ground and turned.

When their eyes met, the middle-age woman smiled as she approached to Kaito’s side. “I heard the truck pulled over and figured today’s the day,” the woman said, before handing a pack of cookies to Kaito. “Here’s a little welcome gift for you; I baked them this morning.”

“Oh, wow thanks.” Kaito bowed, accepting the bag. He hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon so this would definitely come in handy... “After I unpack my stuff, I’ll be sure to pop by with a gift,” he said.

“Please don’t worry about it.” The woman laughed. “Anyway, my name is Chiyo, and—”

“Good afternoon, Chiyo-san,” a lady across Kaito’s house called out, one hand holding onto a little girl while the other hand was in the air, ready to give a wave. But she stopped and tilted her head instead when she spotted Kaito.

“Good afternoon,” Chiyo greeted back before gesturing to Kaito. “He’s the new neighbour.”

Realization dawned upon the other lady’s face as she and the little girl crossed over to Kaito’s house. “Hello."

“Hi.” Kaito smiled. And when Chiyo casted him a curious look, he remembered he hadn’t introduced himself, and added, “My name is Kuroba Kaito.”

“I’m Mizuno Kyoko.” Kyoko gestured to the little girl, who was standing behind her. “This is my daughter, Sakura.”

The girl hid even further behind her mother when Kaito glanced at her.

“Sorry about that, she’s shy around new people,” Kyoko said apologetically. 

“That’s alright.” Kaito slowly bent forward and showed an encouraging smile. “Hello Sakura-chan, nice to meet you.” 

With a flick of a wrist and a snap later, a lollipop appeared in between his fingers.

Sakura gasped in awe and unconsciously stepped towards Kaito’s hand. She glanced hopefully at Kyoko, seemingly to ask for permission, and when Kyoko nodded, Sakura gleefully took the lollipop from Kaito’s hand.

“Thank you,” Sakura said bashfully.

Kaito smiled. And at the exact moment after he straightened up, Kyoko suddenly waved at whatever was over Kaito’s shoulder.

“Oh, Kudo-san.”

Kaito blinked.

_Kudo?_

Sakura’s face lit up, a complete change from her timid demeanour. “Shinichi nii-san!” she exclaimed.

Kaito blinked again.

Kudo and Shinichi?

_KUDO SHINICHI?!_

Kaito robotically turned, and he barely managed to stop his eyes from widening too much and rolling out of his sockets. 

There, in the damn flesh, was indeed _the_ Kudo Shinichi he wasn't hoping to be.

Before deciding to purchase his house in this area, Kaito had checked every resident’s information, like knowing Chiyo was now living alone after her second daughter recently married off, and that Kyoko’s ex-husband and Sakura’s father was an alcoholic and serving a long and deserving time in prison. 

And as for the house next to his, Kaito was sure it would be empty, given the fact he knew the family who owned it had migrated to Australia.

Kaito closed his eyes briefly, but when he opened them, Shinichi was still standing there, his hand hovering over his mailbox’s latch.

_Great. Another nightmare I can’t wake up from. _

With the lack of news coverage about the detective’s Shinigami ability, Kaito thought Shinichi had gone undercover in Africa or something after he defeated the Black Organization. But who knew he was still in Japan, _and_ living right _next_ to him—

Chiyo waved, bidding Shinichi over. “Shinichi boy, come and introduce yourself to the new neighbour.” 

_Shinichi boy? Well, I'll be damned._

Leaving his mailbox, Shinichi trudged over to Kaito and the little crowd. He greeted everyone—while patting Sakura’s head—before acknowledging Kaito with a look.

An _observing_ look, to be exact.

Shinichi raised a hand, but rather than pulling Kaito’s cheek or pointing his tranquilliser watch, his hand stopped at their waists' level.

“Hi, I’m Kudo Shinichi,” he said. 

“Uh, um, hi, my name is Ta—” Kaito pursed his lips, glancing at the _witnesses_ that would definitely expose the fake name he was about to use. Groaning inwardly, he mustered a smile, and tentatively reached out for Shinichi’s hand. “My name is Kuroba Kaito.”

“Well,” Shinichi said, dropping his hand to his side after the handshake (which was the most awkward one Kaito ever had in his life). “Hope you’ll enjoy staying here.”

Barely an hour had passed since he moved in and Kaito was already wondering if it was even remotely possible… But nonetheless, he showed a grin and a thumbs up, hoping it was enough as a facade.

“Thanks, neighbour; I’ll count on you for that.”

Shinichi didn’t return the smile, but he gave a nod back in the end.

“I’ll try to do what I can.”

.

.

.

.

Kaito groaned and put a hand over his eyes.

When it didn't help to reduce the intensity of the glaring sunlight on his eyelids, he kicked his legs around, trying find his blanket and hide underneath it. But then he remembered it was still hanging outside to dry since yesterday afternoon...

Kaito groaned again, already losing the drowsiness in him to get back the sleep he wanted. He peeled open his eyes and stared at the ceiling in frustration. 

There were two things Kaito could blame for his current predicament: One, the sun’s existence, or two, his laziness for not drawing the curtain close last night—

“Ow.” Kaito sat up, swatting a hand over Yoshi who just pecked his forehead. The three jabs were a lot more painful than the _morning greetings _it usually gave, until Kaito realized it wasn’t really morning now. The clock on his wall showed half past noon.

Rubbing his forehead, Kaito climbed out of his bed. He figured the aggressiveness might be linked to the, perhaps, empty bird feeder bowl in the backyard, until he saw where Yoshi had flown off after pecking Kaito.

It was standing next to the closed balcony window, and on the other side of the glass was its comrade, Tamago—who didn’t return when Kaito did roll-call last night.

“Wow.” Kaito scoffed before shuffling towards the glass and squatted down. “So you’re _finally_ back. And I thought you’ve eloped or something—"

Then Kaito frowned, eyes squinting at the note he found tied to Tamago’s leg. Sighing, he pushed the balcony door open, and Tamago flew right in, landing on his bed.

Kaito whistled, signalling Tamgo back as it flew to his wrist. He untied the string and unrolled the note.

> Come to my house once you see this.  
\- Kudo Shinichi

“Huh. Did you stay over at Shinichi’s house?” Kaito cast Tamago a scandalised look. "So is he your new owner now? Are you his messenger too?”

Tamago cooed.

“First was Aoko, and now—” Kaito sighed. “Why did I waste so much money on sunflower seeds for you...”

Looking at the paper one last time, Kaito rolled it up and kept it pressed under a stationary holder on his desk (it was too cute(?) to be thrown away, but he wasn’t sure what to do with it at the moment either). The meeting didn’t sound urgent, and even if it was, he believed Shinichi wouldn’t send it via a note like this. So he spent some time in the bathroom to freshen himself, top up the bird feeder bowl, and water his rose plantations (including Aoko's blue roses), before heading over to Shinichi’s home. 

While walking the short distance, Kaito wondered what the meeting could be about. He already briefed Shinichi about the things they needed to do for their next volunteering session, and when he checked Shinichi’s mailbox, it was clear from shit too.

Kaito sucked a breath through his teeth at a new thought. Could it be that Tamago shit _inside_ his house? Damn, he hoped it was anything but the sofa. Knowing the material, it would take ages for him to rub it off.

Reaching outside Shinichi’s door, Kaito raised a hand and prepared to knock, but his arm fell back to his side when he read the note that was pasted on it.

> _The door isn’t lock._

Kaito raised an eyebrow. _Am I in some Alice in Wonderland dream or something... _Shrugging to himself, he twisted the door knob and entered.

“Uh, yo?” Kaito said into the seemingly empty house—

“Just in time,” Shinichi called out from where Kaito knew was the direction of the kitchen. “Come here.”

Taking in a breath, Kaito widened his eyes. 

“What on earth...?” he muttered, before mindlessly taking the first step towards the kitchen, and another, and another—

Standing by the dining table in the weirdest-looking apron Kaito ever seen, Shinichi closed the cap of the squeeze bottle. He then turned, smiling expectedly at Kaito before showing the plate of omelette rice with squiggly red lines made out of tomato sauce. 

“Happy Birthday, Kaito,” Shinichi said.

Kaito blinked. Stupidly, he fished out the phone in his pocket, which he hadn’t gotten around to checking after waking up. Below the date that stated June 21, there were multiple birthday texts and missed calls from different people: his mother, Jii, Hakuba, Akako, Keiko and even... Aoko’s dad.

He had completely forgotten about his birthday.

“How did you—” Kaito raised his head, but stopped when he realized Shinichi knew it from one of Aoko’s diary entries. 

Shinichi didn’t respond to Kaito's unfinished question, probably knowing Kaito already figured it out himself.

“I don’t know what to do or give you, too, so I figured _this_,” Shinichi said, awkwardly glancing at the kitchen—where Kaito also spotted a new frying pan—and then at the omelette rice. “You said you craved for omelette rice.”

Kaito frowned. “When did I ever say that?”

“You did,” Shinichi said firmly as he untied the apron’s ribbon around his neck and placed it on the back of a chair. “Remember that volunteer session when Rina’s mom brought omelette rice for lunch and you saw it? You said that back then.”

“Wha— That’s _months_ ago.” 

“You know how to speed read and I have a good memory. Life’s fair and equal.”

“Um, actually I also have a good memory—”

Shinichi narrowed his eyes. “This is not a competition.”

Chortling, Kaito walked towards the edge of the dining table. He stared at the omelette rice, the same scent that hit him when he first stepped into the house was still strong and lingering.

“The rice isn’t any kind of rice,” Shinichi said, as if reading Kaito’s thoughts. “It’s the fried rice that Aoko taught you to cook.”

Kaito slowly nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

Though the yearning had toned down comparatively, this was still the greatest gift Kaito ever received; he thought he only missed Aoko’s cooking, who knew he would miss something as silly as the smell too—cooking on his own had deprived him the ability to take in the strong scent of the fried rice at one go...

“Just a disclaimer, though,” Shinichi began as he passed a spoon to Kaito. “I used mostly my gut-feelings and observations—from when you were cooking—to make the rice. As for the omelette, I asked Rina’s mother for advice, and also looked up video tutorials online.”

Kaito mutely nodded.

“It may not taste the best, but it’s the best I can do.” Shinichi nervously scratched the side of his cheek before looking back at Kaito. “So, yeah. Happy Birthday.”

Kaito twiddled with the spoon, feeling the weight of the utensil and the words he hadn’t figured out to say. 

_Thanks_ felt too much of an understatement for all the things Shinichi had done for Kaito—and it wasn't including _this_ or his birthday wish. He got to admit he wasn’t good at expressing his feelings all that outwardly or verbally besides showing grins and smiles, be it fake or real, but this time, Kaito thought Shinichi should know. 

Shinichi _should_ know.

Kaito placed the spoon back on the table, which earned him a questionable look from Shinichi. 

This might not be the best way, but it was the best Kaito could do too.

Walking around the dining table and closing the distance between them, Kaito pulled Shinichi in for a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if... anyone is expecting more of the "romance" portion, but "it's the best I can do"  
ahhahah *hides*
> 
> Anyway, thank you ALL for reading, kudo-ing, bookmark-ing and reviewing <3, and some who even drew fanart for this fic *STILL CRYING* THANK YOU ALL once again! I truly appreciate the support and love, and without it, I'm not sure if i'll be able to complete this fic today...
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed the end!


End file.
